A Doomed Archer
by StumpyTPDimples
Summary: After a botched mission, the Avengers' must help their resident archer deal with some life changing consequences.
1. Chapter 1

Next request!

My dear ELOSHAZZY! This one will be something, that's all I'll say right now!

Enjoy :)

Disclaimer; **Tony** : *Looks around* I don't know where she is, to be honest. I think she's given up. So.. *Holds up que card* Ahem.. Miss StumpyTPDimples doesn't own us.. I own us, obviously! She doesn't even own this story idea, so I don't think she'll be showing up anytime soon to do these!

* * *

"Just saying, Widow!"

"Well don't just say!"

Clint smirked slightly at the exchange over the comms, easily taking out two troops with arrows while listening to the little fight.

"Play nice, kids." Steve's voice came through, just as Barton slid to the floor to avoid a blow from another soldier. He slid enough to find his way behind him, so he jumped up and snapped his neck. Not enough to break and kill him, just enough to knock him out for a while. Hawkeye never liked killing unless it was roughly 253% necessary in a mission brief.

They hadn't reached their target just yet, this was just his army. Sent to take them out.

Once the five guys in his area were well and truly dealt with, he continued running down the halls of the castle.

Yep. You heard right.

Castle.

What sort of arms dealer would hide out in such a blatant and obvious place, you wonder? What international drug mule or hardened criminal would have enough resources to live in such a place, you ask?

None.

This guy was worse than every arms and drugs dealer combined.

During their time with SHIELD, Clint and Natasha were sent a record number of times to take him out. If the notorious Hawkeye and Black Widow couldn't take him out with numerous attempts, then that should show how bad he actually was!

If they got to him, he'd be dead in a second. But the bastard controlled an army, literally. So for the two assassins, it was a little tricky and they'd usually end up having to pull out of the mission before they even had a chance to get close to him.

Now though? Well, now, they had an army of their own!

"Coming through Legolas!" Clint heard as the ever lovely Iron Man flew over his head, taking out three guys Clint had arrows aimed at.

"Come on Stark! Now my count is going to suck! They were my men!" Barton growled through the comms, repositioning his arrows in the quiver as he chased after the suited up billionaire.

"Well, that was already going to happen." Stark replied calmly, and he could just hear the smirk in his voice! "I got first whack at Doom."

"Like hell you do!" Natasha yelled over the comms, giving Clint a smirk.

Literally beat him with that reply by a second!

Victor Von Doom.

Doctor Doom.

Sometimes, just Doom.

Really depends on what mood he's in, depends on who you are, depends on if he wants to be a smart little shit and correct you for just the joy of correcting someone. Never really know what to call him until you're up close and personal and actually acknowledge him!

"Hawkeye has to take the shot!" Widow said a little more calmly, the scoff Stark gave made it seem like it was just a vanity thing making Clint have to take the shot. That wasn't true, but Natasha's next sentence didn't really dispute it! "We've been hunting him for years!"

Probably sounded like a 'He gets the shot because we've been hunting him longer and want him dead more!' kind of comment, but really, it was just her letting them know that Strike Team Delta knew how to take him out and how he had to be taken out. Hawkeye had to take the shot. Simple as that.

Doom was technically a diplomat. A bullshit diplomat, a horrible one with plans of world domination and destruction at the same time, but a diplomat nonetheless.

So, the kill couldn't be traced back to the U.S. or to SHIELD. Clint's disintegrating arrows made that easy. A clean shot through the head and the iron in the blood would eat away at the arrow in no time flat.

"Tell ya what kid." Stark started through the comms, Clint could hear some explosions through it too as he ran through the obviously Iron Man cleared hall ways. "I'm currently trying to blow in Doom's door. Get here before then and you can take the shot."

"Are you mad!?" Clint yelled with wide eyes, picking up his pace to try get to Tony before he did something that would endanger the lot of them, not just his selfish ass.

"Jury's out." Stark simply sound of crashing metal then followed which meant Barton had to get his ass in gear!

"You close, Hawk?" Natasha's frantic voice came through his ears. He had a feeling she was just as gob-smacked at how Stark was handling this. Cockiness would get them all killed!

They briefed the team so many times before this mission. They said how carefully they had to approach, how Doom always had five moves and a billion trump cards on those attacking him.

One trap during their first round of attacking left Clint being set on fire like a human torch. Burns danced along his arms and torso for easily 10 minutes before Natasha finally got to him, earning a nice long stay in intensive care for two months. He still had the scars from that horrible day.

The worst past about it was they couldn't issue an arrest warrant for the archer's attacker. They couldn't go after Doom, couldn't report him other than to Fury who ordered the mission. They weren't supposed to be there, so they couldn't report it and have him on an official kill list.

Doom adapts. That's the problem.

He's one of the smartest people in the world, easily on par with, if not surpassing, the great Tony Stark. Even if he didn't know the Avengers were coming, he was smart enough to have plans devised for the eventuality they'd grace his doorstep.

"No one's home." Stark said through a thoughtful hum, just as Clint turned the corner and into the hallway with Doom's office at the end.

"Get out of there, Tony!" Clint yelled, trying his best to get to the opening before what happened to him happens to Tony too.

He wasn't quick enough though.

Before he was even nearly there a heavy metal door fell in the place previously occupied by the door Stark blew off the hinges.

He didn't even try get in touch with Tony. He knew from past experience that communication in and out of that room was impossible.

 _Dammit Stark!_

"Tash. He's caught." Clint simply said down the line, knowing it'd be explanation enough for her. Not for Steve though.

"Captured?" Rogers voice asked, sounding strained over the comms. He must still be fighting.

"Yeeeup." Clint nodded, popping the 'p' at the end of the word out of annoyance.

Had Stark just listened to Clint, then he wouldn't have to mount a god damn rescue mission right now! He studied this place enough times to know the only way into the secure room bar the main door were very cramped, tight, dark old vents that fed fresh air into the place. He hated them more than anything else in the world - which is why he refused to use them during this attack!

That and the last time he tried to get to Doom using the vents, just as he was about to send an arrow through his skill, the guy pressed something that made the vents squeeze the life out of the archer, breaking nearly all his ribs in the process.

This time, he hopefully won't expect them to use the system. So he might be able to avoid that particular trap!

"I'll make sure to get some fancy soap for you." Natasha said over the comms with the hint of a chuckle to her voice. She knew how horrible he was after these vents, how grimy he came out of them. He never smelled right for over a week after climbing through them!

"You're more than welcome to do this for me, Widow.." Barton replied quietly, slinging his bow over his back as he popped open the vents cover.

"Next time, Hawk. Promise. Now, on your back!"

"Funny. That's what I was gonna say to you when home." He smirked, knowing how much jokes like that annoyed her while on missions, especially when even Steve gives a little chuckle at it - kinda like the one he gave now!

He obeyed though, shimmying his way into the vent on his back after adjusting his bow and quiver to his front. It was the only way to move through them, using your legs to push you along on you back, simply because the space was too tight to comfortably army crawl on your front without scratching yourself up entirely.

"Aaaaaaand comms are gone.." He sighed to himself halfway through the vents, after hearing the horrible 'zap' sound in his ear that meant communication with the outside was no longer a possibility. He let out a curse and swung upwards to punch the top of the vent, continuing on with his little shimmy game then to try reach the main room as quick as he could.

He counted off the meters travelled in his head as he went, the only way to guess when he'd be over the main room since there weren't really signs posted in the shaft!

When he got over it, he was a mess. The humid air in the place had his sweating like no man, and it made it near impossible to breathe. He'd been under worse conditions before though, so he simply reached his hands over to the side and ripped out the panel, just enough to see into the space before he went rushing in.

A scan of the floor below revealed the Iron Man suit, with no doubt Tony Stark still inside, lying motionless on the floor. The room, being Doom's main office, was rather large. Pillars lined the walls, with no real purpose other than ascetics. A quick try of his comms to contact the billionaire proved useless, so it was most likely a electric pulse that rendered the mechanical suit just about as much use as a paper weight right now.

His trained eyes couldn't pick up anyone else though. This was the only chance he'd get so he leapt down from the vent, slung his bow and arrows back in their proper place, and sprinting across to where Tony was lying.

"You with me?" He asked in a whisper when he was kneeling over the iron suit, just to see if the blast knocked Tony out of not.

"I'm doing fine, Robin Hood." Stark replied in his usual cocky voice, and Clint rolled his eyes. Just to be safe, he drew an arrow and nocked it in case someone did surface. "Jarvis is struggling to reboot though. Think it's gonna be a few."

"I have half a mind to just leave you here, you idiot." Clint growled, standing up properly so he could stand guard while the suit tried boot itself up again. "What the hell goes through your mind? We had a plan!"

"I'm sorry, was it not you who was complaining about it taking too long to complete!?"

"That doesn't mean you do something this reckless! For a genius you're a real dumb ass!"

"Oh bite me, Barton." Stark snapped back, but Clint caught the reply in his throat because around him a number of doors shot open and a flurry of fresh soldiers filed in.

Five doors, about 30 coming out of each.

150 v 1.

He liked those odds!

Well, the voice that boomed from the rafters meant it was technically 151 v 1..

"So good to see you again, Hawkeye!"

Clint looked up with a scowl when the voice of Doom hit his ears, the diplomat standing in his usual metal get up above them all. Typical. He had to be above them all because that's what he saw himself as.

He drew the arrow back without a word and aimed it right at the metal mask, but he couldn't release. Because the sound of 150 weapons being trained on him quickly followed the action.

"This is, what, your eleventh time here?" Doom asked with a hum, starting to walk the rafter towards the stair case at the end of it.

"Thirteenth. Eleventh actually getting to this room. First time seeing your lovely face." He replied calmly, his mind working through plans to take out the men that had guns trained on him.

"Oh that's right!" Doom chuckled, honestly sounding amused. Getting into the mind of Victor Von Doom was just as confusing a task as getting into the mind of Tony Stark, so Clint didn't even try figure out what he found funny. "That first time the pair of you just ran away.. The other, oh that was fun.. How are those burn scars, Agent Barton?"

"Better." Clint snapped with a sarcastic smile, his fingers just twitching to release the arrow.

"I tried rid the world of you that time." Doom sighed, finally coming back into view in the middle of the circle of soldiers. "I don't think I should fail this time."

Clint smirked at the man and released the tension in the wire, slowly reaching back to the compartment on his belt behind him once the arrow was safe.

"Time me, Stark."

Without another word, he drew a grenade and threw it to one side of the circle, running to avoid the hail of gun fire then that was directed his way. The explosion rocked the room just as he nocked four arrows. He turned to face the enemies once more to see about half the field taken out with that explosion, the other half were chasing after him guns firing.

He sent the four arrows flying. They embedded themselves into the targets and he hit a button on the handle of his bow to detonate the sonic pulse in each that sent another ten to the ground as well.

Should never underestimate Hawkeye! Even with an army after him, he just took out about 100 of them in 30 seconds!

There were still easily 50 of them left though, and he wasn't sure how lucky he'd continue being at avoiding bullets! One had already grazed his arm, sending a horrible wave of pain through him with each arrow he pulled.

"Comms are finally back." Stark's calm voice came through his ear, and while it should have been a little victory to Clint, it just just pissed him off!

"Fucking great! Wonderful! Get the rest of it up and fucking running and help me out!"

"I'm trying! If you want to help instead of playing with your little stick and arrows, by all means do!"

"ENOUGH! I've had it!"

Clint felt a blindingly hot pain in his chest when Doom shouted those words, and without knowing what had happened, something sent him flying back against the wall.

He let out a scream of pain and slumped down, using the wall as a form of support to sit up as he tried rid himself of blurry vision.

What the hell had happened!?

It was some force, something hit him square in the chest, but he didn't see a weapon, didn't even see Doom! What kind of trick was this?

It wasn't a trick. This was Doom. This was a trap.

Dammit, he knew Clint would come rescue Stark.

He never planned to take out the billionaire. If he had, then Tony would be dead right now and Doom would be long gone.

He planned to take out the archer..

Through the blurriness of his vision, he could make out the shape of his attacker stalking ever closer. Out of instinct, he went to draw an arrow for his bow.

But he couldn't.

No matter how many times he sent the command from his brain to his arm, nothing would happen.

The one time he did get a little movement, the pain it sent through the limb had him screaming and nearly passing out.

"Barton! What's going on!?" Stark's yells broke through the haziness of Clint's mind, but it was no use.

There was no chance.

 _This is too bad, way way too bad. This is going to SUCK!_

Doom casually kneeled infront of Clint, and he found that whatever blast he took made everything impossible to move, not just his arm. He tried kick out at the man, tried push at him with his other arm, but everything he tried do was met with a hazy resistance that would have the dark edges of unconsciousness creeping ever closer.

"You have heart, I'll give you that." Doom said calmly, but Clint struggled to make the words out, just as he was now struggling to make out the words of Tony's frantic voice in his ear. "It's almost a shame to kill you. But you and that Romanoff one have been a thorn in my side for too long now. You need to be eliminated."

Something lit up a blinding blue, but he couldn't focus on it too long because it was soon plunged right into his chest.

The pain had him completely paralysed. Inside he was screaming, outside nothing could escape his lips.

This was it, this was how he died.

The last thing he could see as darkness took him was a blur tackling Doom away from him, the last thing he could feel was whatever that device was being ripped from his chest.

Last thing he could think was how Tony was too late, how Jarvis' reboot was too late. Tackling Doom was nice of him, but he was too late.

No, the last thing he could think was everything was too late for him.

He had been lucky over the years. He'd usually shake off hits and what others would consider death sentence blows. This time though, as he slipped unconscious, he could actually feel his heart beginning to stop.

Dammit, he wasn't going to make it this time..


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the love for the first chapter! This is going to be the one that might get me into trouble but that's fine! :3

ELOSHAZZY; I'm glad you liked it my dear :) I like to think that Barton actually hates killing! It's why when he was taken by Loki he wanted to know how many agents he killed, or why he never took out Natasha in the first place. And even in the comics he only ever seems to kill in actual near death situations! But yeah, keep that in mind, cause later chapters will need that little knowledge there! ;) Thanks for the review and I hope you like chapter 2!

Niom Lamboise; Glad you liked it! Means alot! He's going to feel more than just a bit of guilt, trust me! Enjoy this one! :)

WitBeyondMeasure23; I'm glad you're excited! I am too! Though people may kill me for it, blame ELOSHAZZY for the idea for it! :D

DISCLAIMER;  
Tony: Nope. None of us are happy with her or ELOSHAZZY right now, so, none of us are willing to do this for her. Just read the one in chapter 1.

* * *

The suit was sluggish, like it always was after rebooting. He thought he fixed that bug, he really did, and now was NOT the time for the damn thing to break down!

Things had gone quiet on Clint's end of the comms, and it scared Tony more than anything.

As he stood, the suit finally allowing him to, his eyes went wide at the sight infront of him. He hadn't a clue what happened, Hawkeye never responded to that question, but Barton was slumped against the wall, blocked out though by Doom who was piercing something into the archers chest.

Tony didn't have the time to think of a proper plan. Clint wasn't moving, so he knew he didn't have much time at all. He just put all the power he had into the thrusters of his suit and went flying, knocking Doom away from his team mate and onto the floor.

Victor let out a grunt as he landed hard on his back, whatever device he was using flying off along the ground in the process. Tony was leaning over him, practically pinning him to the floor to keep him down. He popped his face mask up so the diplomat could see the glare he was sending his way before pulling his fist back to land a blow on Doom's masked face. He would kill him. Not even because it was the mission anymore, but because he had the nerve to hurt Clint on Tony's watch!

"Wait!" Doom suddenly yelled, his hands coming up to try block the blow. Wouldn't do much good against a mechanical suit. "Your friend doesn't have the time for this."

Tony narrowed his eyes at the man, not risking letting him even leave his sight for a second to look back at Clint. "It'll take me no time at all to finish you."

"But then how will you escape with him?" Doom asked coyly, though Tony could only see his eyes, the way they turned up just meant he was smirking behind that mask. "My army would have been alerted, they're behind that door, and you alone will have to fight through them. That is, if you can even open the door to get him the attention he needs."

Dammit.. He can't. He tried before the electro pulse knocked off his power. Whatever that door was, it was solid enough to withstand a number of blasts from his repulsers, and that's saying something, especially since he had them at full power!

"Let me walk away." Doom continued, his hands lowering as if testing Tony. "I'll call off the army, I'll open the door, I'll let all of you leave with no fight. But he stands next to no chance of survival without this offer."

He hated that Doom was right..

Tony stared the man beneath him down for a moment, almost daring him to try something funny. The look in his eyes told Stark that it was a solid offer though. He did enough business back in the day to know a bullshit deal just by a persons eyes.

"Just get out of here." Stark growled, standing then to hurry over to his fallen friend.

He could hear the retreating footsteps of Doom and the sound of the door opening like promised, but he couldn't care. He was in complete shock at the state Clint was in.

He was sitting slumped against the wall, his head bowed towards his chest with his eyes closed. He was barely breathing, and when he did it was shallow and pained. There was a substantial hole in his chest, where that device was plunged into his body. It was bleeding pretty heavily, but that wasn't the main worry believe it or not.

His right arm. The bicep.

There were alot of horrible sights Tony has seen over the years, alot of horrible things done at parties when things got a little out of control. He'd have an iron stomach at those times, but this nearly had him throwing up all over the place.

There was a gash to the bicep, a deep one. So deep that Tony was sure he could see bone, positive that the arm was probably barely holding on. It was ragged, so it wasn't cut, more like split open from whatever had knocked him against the wall.

It was bleeding more than Tony could ever think possible. There was some amount of veins cut across that were still pumping blood, so it just flowed out of his body.

"J, I need full status." Tony said frantically to the AI, letting his mask fall back down and the armour glove retract to use his bare hands before kneeling down to tend to the archer.

He ripped apart some of Clint's shirt into strips and started wrapped them tightly around the wound on his arm, trying his best to stop the bleeding that was causing a bit of a puddle to form. He tied them off as tightly as he possibly could before creating a make shift tourniquet above the wound. It would stop bloodflow, good thing and bad thing. But he had to do something.

"Sir.." Jarvis said after a minute or two, while Tony was tending to Clint's chest. "Heart rate and blood pressure are dropping. Agent Barton is losing blood at an alarming rate. I'm afraid if this continues, he won't survive the shock attack it will cause."

"Dammit Jarvis, he will survive!" Tony snapped, making sure everything was tied up and secure before daring to even try move the unconscious archer.

He jumped when static came through the helmet, grinning a little then when his comms came back online fully. He could hear Steve give some orders to Natasha and Thor through the line.

"Code purple." Tony said sternly down the line, hearing nothing but intakes of breath then from all the team.

Code purple was the second worst case scenario in their code list.

Green meant that Hulk was needed to help clear things up. White was someone was hit. Orange means a civilian was in danger or already hurt. Red was a civilian death. Purple was a team-mate gravely injured. Black was a team mate death.

This was the first purple they've had, and Tony found some kind of comedic justice in the fact that it was Clint who suggested the colour for the situation.

"Clint's down." Stark continued, a little frantic now as he checked to make sure the archer was still actually alive and it hadn't fallen into a code black. The team seemed to be in more shock than Clint was about to go into, so he only had one person he knew he would really trust. He switched over the comm channels to the jet's line only. "You there, Bruce?"

"You don't need green, do you?" Banner's quiet voice responded, a slight quiver to it. From the information Stark just sent through all channels or the thought of a code green, Tony couldn't tell.

"Army are pulling out. We have a clean exit, Doom assured." Tony said as calmly as he could. He risked moving the archer to a lying position once the bleeding slowed enough. "I'm sending you Clint's stats. I can't wait for evac or the team to get here. I need to know if it's safe enough to fly him out to you."

Things went quiet once the data was sent, so Stack flicked back on the main team channel to see if they were in the mood for talking just yet.

"-od Stark, if you don't answer me!"

"Sorry Widow. Busy saving your fuck buddy here." Tony replied quietly, not thinking he'd ever hear such fear in the assassins voice.

"What's his status?" Natasha replied sharply. Tony was getting his ass kicked when she saw him, he so knew it!

"Meet us at the jet and I'll tell all." He said quietly. He wasn't trusting his voice, and stomach for that matter, to tell her exactly what was wrong.

An all clear message flashed up on his interface from Banner a moment later, and Tony was never as happy to see something like that before!

Carefully, so as to try not make the bleeding any worse, he picked up the archer in his arms and wasted no time in flying out of the room to speed towards the main exit.

He hated how limp Clint felt in his arms, how much weight was there. Sometimes, he'd get injured.. Ok, alot of the time. But he'd never been so limp and lifeless before. He was such a brave guy, himself and Romanoff equally. No powers, no protection, just them and their skills. Still, Barton rushes head first in on fights. He doesn't think twice about risking everything to save someone on the team if they need it. This time, he happened to get the most horrific injury while trying to save Tony.

This was something Tony couldn't even begin to know how to pay back.

The suit was at full power again, thankfully! It meant that he could go full speed along the halls of the castle, meaning the pair reached the quinjet in no time at all. It took all he had to make sure he didn't pass any of the other team-mates. He didn't need them trying to stop him, Clint couldn't have them trying to stop him. Though he did sense Thor flying right behind him as he got closer to the exit.

When he got to the jet, Bruce had everything ready. He got the report and video feed of the injuries from Jarvis, so he no doubt knew exactly what Clint would need to give him a fighting chance.

"Put him there." Bruce said quickly, calmly though, as soon as Tony entered the jet. Stark did just that, laying the archer carefully on the table-turned-make-shift-bed so Bruce could look after him.

"You stay with us, Barton." Tony whispered in Clint's ear once he was lying down, Bruce by his side inserting an iv and blood feed. He didn't like how pale Clint already was. "I still need to teach you about that Mustang engine of yours.. So stay with me.."

"Stark, you absolute ass!"

Oh no.. This was going to hurt..

He turned toward the entrance to the jet to see a very angry Black Widow storming towards him, the truly terrified faces of Steve and Thor entering behind her. of course the Widow could scare a super soldier and a god..

"Natasha.." He started calmly, stepping out of the suit and holding his hands up defensively. "I'm so-"

He willingly took the punch to the jaw, his head snapping painfully to the right and his balance faltering a little from the blow. He deserved it..

"What? You're sorry?" Romanoff spat, her fists now just curled by her side. "Sorry doesn't fix things! Sorry doesn't help Clint! There was a plan for a fucking reason!"

"I was the one attacked, trapped!" Tony defended, arms held up to try show he was no threat. Lame excuse, but he was the one trapped in that room, not Barton. He didn't ask to be saved.

"He didn't want you.." Natasha said quietly, all her fight seemed to be gone now. Tony followed her line of sight and frowned. She had finally spotted her fallen partner, lying bleeding and near death on the table.

He couldn't ask what she meant by that, he didn't have a chance. The widow was gone, replaced by the much softer side known as Natasha Romanoff. Known as Clint Barton's partner, more ways than one, though the team aren't supposed to know that. He stood aside and let Natasha cross the small distance to Clint's side. No one would be able to move her now.

Tony couldn't look at her though, couldn't look at Clint more like. Banner had the make shift bandages taken off to be replaced with actual ones, and he couldn't look at those injuries again once the adrenaline was out of his system.

It was a damn good thing himself, Barton and Romanoff were the only pilots on the team. Because with the other two currently.. Well, busy, he'd be the one who'd be at the stick.

He turned on his heel and left the team, going to the secluded cock pit area to start taking them home. It was a while away, roughly 6 hours, so the sooner he left the better, otherwise Barton would stand less than no chance.

What did she mean though?

If Doom didn't want him, then why was he trapped? Why would he kill the suit? Why would he do to all that trouble if he didn't want Stark?

He glanced up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, seeing the sombre face of Steve looking out the main window.

"Are you sure you're ok to fly?" He asked softly, the daddy voice on. He may technically be younger than Stark is, but he was basically the father of the group.

Tony nodded and looked back out to the skies, knowing he wasn't 100% focused, but Jarvis would help him if he ventured too far off course.

"You can go back out there, if you want. I'm fine." Tony replied quietly, both hands gripping the control yoke. He was staring at them, rather, staring at the blood that covered them.

"I don't think I can." Steve sighed, moving to take the co-pilot seat next to Tony. He usually hated others up here while he was flying, but right now, he might need someone. "It's not the nicest sight.."

"He doesn't stand a chance.." Tony whispered, his head shaking a little at the thought. "Even if we get him back, if we get him to the professionals waiting at the tower, he doesn't have a snowballs chance in hell and I.."

"Tony." Steve said sternly, causing the billionaire to look at him. He had a worried frown on, watching Stark like he was the one hurt. "He'll be fine. He always is."

"He's never this bad.." Tony said with a shake of his head. None of them were ever this bad.

"When has that stopped him?" Steve smiled a little sadly, moving to sit back against the chair and watch the clouds. "We can never get rid of Clint. He'll never allow it, will he?"

Tony couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face, a nod following.

"Imagine the peace in the tower though." He chuckled humourlessly, glad it was Steve who came up to him. He always knew what to say to calm people down.

"What happened in the room?" Rogers asked after about 20 minutes of silence. Tony wished it stayed silent.

What did actually happen?

He knocked down the door, was just in the place, and another slid shut. There was no one else in there, nothing to be seen other than pillars and horrible furnishings. An electric pulse hit him and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

But Doom didn't come near him.

Doom only showed his face when Clint came in, only sent in the troops when Clint came in.

Then Clint got his ass handed to him, though he was kicking some army ass himself!

Clint could hold his own again that large amount of people, but the second Doom got to him, he was down..

But that didn't sit right..

"He got beat too easily.." Tony whispered, more to himself than to Steve. "He's a better fighter than most of us. He can take these things. He got beat so easily."

"So?" Steve asked, confusion lacing his question. "These things happen.."

"You don't understand." Tony cut off the captain, shaking his head quickly. "He was prepared for Clint, he was ready for Hawkeye. He had the army there, to outnumber and distract him. He had some device to knock him off his feet and keep him down. He was ready for Clint, not me. Steve, I'm unharmed.."

"Clint was.." Steve began, Tony nodding with a frown as he upped the throttle of the jet.

"Hawkeye was the target. Widow aswell if he got the chance." Tony confirmed his thoughts matched Steve's. Both frowned at what that meant. "I was just bait. If Clint wasn't as kind hearted as he is, if he just left me there, he'd be fine. I'm the reason he's like this right now."

And, dammit, that's the first time in a long time Tony Stark has felt properly guilty about something.

* * *

The wait was more agonizing than the flight was.

On the way to the tower, Tony made sure that Pepper got the best specialists and surgeons available and even those not available to get their asses to the tower infirmary before they landed.

True to her word, she got it done, and Barton was wheeled off the jet and given to the care of the team of experts. He didn't even have to ask Banner to follow, he just stayed by Clint's side the whole way and wouldn't be pushed away easily.

Same couldn't be said for Natasha. They had to keep her out of the way, so Thor literally had to drag her from the side of Clint's bed kicking and screaming as they wheeled the archer to the emergency area.

They had him somewhat stable in the jet. Somewhat. He was slowly slipping into shock, it was inevitable at this point, but they had enough adrenaline shots, painkillers, and oxygen on board to stop it happening where it couldn't be dealt with properly. Bruce wrapped the wounds up properly, and the guy honestly looked like a mummy when he was wheeled out. Tee look on Bruce's face just confirmed Tony's suspicions that, even if he survived or not, it wasn't going to be a good outcome for the archer. There was just too much damage.

He stayed in the jet for a while, not knowing if he could face the team just yet. An hour passed, then two, then before he knew it, he was sitting in that pilot chair for 4 hours and 23 minutes, just starting at the long since dried blood on his hands.

This was some poetic image.

He had blood on his hands. Both literally and metaphorically. If Clint didn't survive this, then Tony didn't know what he'd do. He didn't know how he'd handle the knowledge that he was the bait, that he was the one predictable enough for Doom to use to lure the archer into that room. He wouldn't know how to handle the fact that he'd be the reason Clint was dead.

He was still staring at his hands when a slender pair started wiping away the blood with an alcohol wipe. He knew who it was by the red nail varnish on the manicured finger nails, but he didn't look up at her, he couldn't.

"Team's wondering where you are.." Natasha whispered, her hands not stopping in the task of wiping her partners blood off the man who killed him. Her voice was hallow, strained. Trust Clint Barton to be the one to bring out any kind of emotion from the Widow. "I think Steve has it in his head that it's better if we're all together right now.."

"Yeah? So how long have you been away from them?" Tony asked with an attempt of a smile, his voice a little hoarse from over 10 hours of lack of use. If Steve wanted them together, Natasha would naturally leave to wind him up.

"Long enough." She replied through an attempted laugh. They had to force some humour or who knows what would happen. The other option is what Strike Team Delta do after a bad mission; fighting, and he wasn't as good at keeping up with Natasha as Clint was.. "I'm sorry for attacking you."

"Deserved it. Long before today, actually." He shrugged, frowning a little at how, even though the blood was fading, the feeling was still hanging heavy on his hands.

"I was just upset." She sighed, and that's when he looked up to her. She must be more shaken than usual, she'd never admit to such a thing if she was in her right mind.

"He'll be ok." Tony said with the smallest of smiles, but none crossed Natasha's face. She just kept her blank gaze on his hands as she cleaned them. She was usually the one assuring them of that though.. "Won't he..?"

"We should get back to the others.." She said quietly. That was it. That was all he needed to let him know he was right to be freaking out a little right now.

He nodded though and stood up, letting her lead the way to where the others were waiting.

That's where he sat for another six hours.

Ten whole hours they've been separated from the archer, with pretty much no news.

It was strange to think he was being kept out of a part of his own house, but he knew it was necessary.

The injuries Clint suffered, externally at least, would take time to fix up. Take alot longer to heal up. It was hell trying to get him to rest during a simple flu, so getting him to rest after this was going to be next to impossible!

The team didn't move, they didn't speak. They all just sat around the room Tony set up for them to wait in. He knew when re building the tower, after having to fix up alot of injuries after the battle of New York, that they'd be waiting like this alot if they were going to continue as a team. So the waiting room had sofa's, had a tv, had game consoles, a kitchen area, even a bed. It was basically a little apartment.

But none of them moved. None of them used any of the entertainment equipment in the place, none of them could even think of food.

They all just waited for any sign of news of their fallen friend.

Just past the eleventh hour, a very haggard looking Bruce Banner entered the room. The whole team shot to their feet, tired as they were, and went to the doctor.

The look Bruce gave them all meant in wasn't good news, and it deflated whatever little bit of spirits they had left.

"Don't tell me he.." Natasha started in a whispered, and when Tony glanced at her, he noticed Steve holding her arm as if she was about to fall down.

Bruce shook his head slowly, a hand rubbing the spot between his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. It was usually Tony's mad ideas that achieved that reaction.

"He's alive.." He finally said. Those two words had a breath that Tony didn't realise he was holding leaving his body.

He's alive..

"Why the sullen face then?" Thor asked in his usual confused tone. Tony guessed on Asgard, simply being alive after a battle was something to be celebrated. And with the injuries Clint had, it seriously is. But the rest of the team knew that it was usually the recovery that killed people. "Is he well?"

"Stable as could be.." He continued, shifting on his feet. He was avoiding some information. "Had to have two blood transfusions, and is on his third as we speak. Broken ribs from hitting the wall he was slumped against, probably a concussion, won't know until he wakes. We closed the hole in his chest, can't figure out what damage it was supposed to cause. It was in the middle away from anything vital. Some cuts and bruises.."

"Bruce.." Steve said calmly, the stern edge to it not as effective as it usually is. If Steve could even notice that Banner was avoiding the subject at hand, then he was being way too obvious!

Banner sighed and shook his head, moving slowly to go take a seat. He looked unsteady on his feet.

After staring at his shoes for what felt like an eternity, Bruce finally looked up at the team and shook his head. He finally let them know about the most pressing issue playing on everyone's minds.

His arm.

"We tried everything.."

The breath left Tony in an instant, leaving a strange pang in his chest and his head shaking of it's own accord. The silence in the room told him everyone else had the same reaction. They all knew where this was going.

"We tried rebuild it, tried fix the muscles and nerves, but there was no chance.." He continued, using the heels of his hands to rub at his eyes. Bruce was never one to hide his emotions, but Tony was trying his best right now to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

"He was bleeding so much from it.. We had to make a choice; either continue trying to fix it and risk him bleeding out and dying.. Or.."

"No.." Natasha whispered from Tony's side, and now the way Steve moved told him that the widow definitely did nearly fall and startled the Captain.

"We had to amputate." Bruce finally sighed out, and now the doctor's tears were falling. "Whole arm had to be taken.. From the shoulder down.. I'm sorry guys, I really am."

To have a room of the worlds mightiest heroes stunned into silence took something major. This was more than something major.

Their archer, their trickshot, their team mate, their friend, hell, their family. He just lost something that was more important to him than anything in the world.

With his arm gone, Hawkeye was no more.

When Clint woke up - yes, when, not if! Tony would be dammed if he'd let the kid leave now! - he'd find out he could no longer shoot. No longer do what he loves.

That thought must have crossed through everyone's mind, that their friend was going to be devastated, that his world has basically turned completely upside down, because everyone just kind of sunk. Natasha literally, she dragged Steve down as she fell onto her knees. Thor was in a state of shock, his eyes betraying that his mind was working through a million ideas of solutions to this problem.

But was there really one..?

Tony was the first to move.

He turned on his heels and walked as quick as he could without running. He left the room, left the devastated and heart broken team, and headed for his lab.

His friend was injured. Damaged.

It was a problem.

All problems had a solution.

And since he caused this problem, it was Tony Stark's duty to find a solution.

It was Tony Stark's duty to give his friend his life back, his love back.

If there was one thing Tony was good at in this life, it was solving problems.

"Come on, J." He called as he entered the lab, opening up multiple computer screens for the task he was about to start. "I have something I need to fix."


	3. Chapter 3

Note, name change, because that's the name I had on Tumblr for a while and the one it was supposed to be but I was reading a fic called New Beginnings that day and apparently just had that title in my head and my fingers wrote it! Only realised what the title was about ten minutes ago! Concussion man! Not fun!

Anyway!

Thanks for the love!

Onto the next!

Reviewers;

Niom Lamboise; I'm glad you liked it :) Hopefully this chapter is just as good! Think your question about the arm is kinda answered here, though the real solution won't be shown for a few more chapters. I think chapter 4 or 5, not sure yet! Enjoy! :)

ELOSHAZZY; Tony: *Huffs* I think I'll refuse to be in this story anymore! I'm getting onto my lawyers about this!  
StumpyTPDimples; ...Yeah, he hates me and you right now so I think you'll have to wait for him to calm down.. Hope you enjoy this one! :)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; Oh no! I broke you! *Puts band-aid on your emotions* Better!?  
I'm just gonna take your review as a compliment and say thank you! :)

Disclaimer; ... Emm... I don't think any of the team is willing to do this right now. They really hate me and ELOSHAZZY.. I gotta wait to see if Clint wakes, he's always happy to tell people I don't own them or anything to do with Marvel!

* * *

"Alright J.. Get me Barton's training footage.."

"As you wish."

Tony turned in his lab chair when the footage was pulled up on a separate monitor, sipping his coffee as he watched the archived videos of Clint shooting at some targets down in the training room. He paused it at one point, when Clint's back was to the camera and he was in the 'proper' - as Clint called it while trying to teach Tony - shooting stance. With the computer programme, he mapped out the angles his body twisted in before turning to the 3D holographic model of a synthetic arm.

"You running the numbers?" He asked his AI with a sigh, downing yet another cup of coffee before standing to go to the little kitchen area and pour himself another. He'd seriously love to put some bourbon into this, make it a little Irish with some whiskey even, but he couldn't have any distractions with such meticulous work at hand.

"Running the simulation now, sir." Jarvis replied politely, continuing on then before Tony could reply. "Might I suggest you nap? You haven't slept since you returned over 30 hours ago."

Tony raised an eyebrow and glanced at the watch on his arm, shrugging a little then before taking the seat he had apparently been occupying for 18 hours. This was more important. "I've often gone longer, buddy. Remember that week in Santa Cruz?"

"Unfortunately, I do sir. But the amount of alcohol consumed during that time makes me believe that you do not."

Tony smirked a little and shrugged, taking another gulp of his coffee. "Some parts are a little hazy.."

He frowned when another red screen appeared infront of him, letting his forehead fall roughly against the desk in annoyance.

"I'm afraid that is not a viable solution, sir."

"This is the eight one, Jarvis!" He growled out, not mad at the AI, more so at himself for not being able to find any material that could work.

It had to be a delicate balance. Whatever material he chose had to be flexible enough to bend to the angles the human arm does while drawing a bow, but also had to be rigid and sturdy enough to withstand the forces the bow string would apply. Not only that, but it had to actually be compatible with the human body so that the brain would be able to send commands through it. This wasn't like someone getting a simple robotic arm that could do every day things. This was like creating a weapon that could be controlled by the mind.

A weapon..

His head shot up and he pushed himself over to yet another computer screen, searching the database for a specific and usually hidden and coded file. "J, what's Barnes' arm made of?"

"I'm afraid you still haven't tested it, sir."

"Well get him in here!" Tony frowned, reading through Bucky's file carefully to see if there's any mention. There was nothing on the material, but plenty on the sergeant complaining about mobility and stiffness. Probably not the best to use for an archer then..

"Sergeant Barnes is out of the country on mission, sir." The AI replied after a few minutes. Just his luck.. "Captain Rogers informs me that he won't be back for another month, at least."

"Clint doesn't have a month!" Tony yelled, swiping his arm across the desk he was at to send whatever pens and paper flying across the room. "We have to fix it before he wakes up! He can't know what I did to him! He can't know that he lost his god damn arm trying to save me!"

"Sir, you need to calm-"

"Calm!?" Tony spat, cutting the AI off. He shouldn't be yelling at Jarvis, but he couldn't control his attacks. "You have no idea what this is like, J! I need to find a solution and quick, which means you need help me! Search every medical paper online, send Clint's stats to everyone who wrote those papers, find me some way to help Clint! I can't have him go through this, Jarvis! I can't leave him like that! I can't-"

"Tony..?"

Of course she was there.. Those spy senses must tingle when Tony has a breakdown..

He sighed to himself and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, trying to get rid of the tears there. He had no right to be upset, especially around Natasha.

"You assassins just love ignoring my 'no one in the lab while I'm working' rule, huh?" He said quietly, moving around with his head down to pick up the things he swept off the desk. He couldn't look at her, but he knew she was coming further into the room.

"He won't blame you." She said firmly, his eyes catching sight of her picking up some of the discarded objects on the floor.

"Well who else is there to blame?" He growled, not meaning to be mad at her, but it was a stupid comment to make. There was no one else the archer could blame. "I was the one stupid enough to get trapped. You said it yourself; Doom didn't want me. I was just bait."

"Clint's a big boy." Natasha said through a sigh, moving to lean against one of the desks. He looked to her then, and frowned a little. The bags under her eyes told him that she didn't have any luck sleeping either. He moved to pour her a cup of coffee. "He made the choice. He won't blame anyone other than himself."

"He would have come in regardless of what anyone said, right..?" He whispered, his hands shaking a little as he poured them both coffee. He couldn't tell if it was a caffeine rush mixed with no sleep or if it was emotions causing the shaking. Both were bad, either way. "Too kind hearted.."

"He tries." She replied after a moment or two, when Tony handed her the cup of coffee and she took a sip. "He always wanted to be a hero. So he takes every chance he gets."

"He's an idiot." Tony sighed, going back to his little desk to try work on a new model. He had to get it right this time. He was running out of ideas. "If this time didn't kill him, the next will.."

Silence. He hit a nerve.

"There'll be a next time." He said calmly, his eyes not leaving the computer screen as he designed another arm. "I promise."

"Steve got worried when Jarvis asked about Bucky.." She said quietly. He guessed she wanted a change of subject.

"So he sent you?" Tony asked with an eyebrow raised, sitting back and sipping from his coffee while he watched Jarvis run numbers on the new model.

"No, actually. He wanted to come down, but I sent him to bed."

"Sent him to bed?" Tony asked through the quietest of chuckles, turning in his chair to look at Natasha. "He really is your child."

"Shut up." She laughed, shaking her head at the comment. "If anything, he's the father of the group!"

"Can't argue with that." Stark shrugged, turning back to the computer once more. If he didn't keep moving, he'd fall asleep. And he didn't want to sleep until he had this figured out. "But that makes you the grandmother!"

He could just feel the glare burning through the back of his head, and it made him grin to himself.

"Clint's a bit older than you, huh?" He suddenly asked, an eyebrow raised as he realised it. He just noticed Clint birth year on his file, trying to see if he could be the grandfather of the group. He knew his birthday alright, but he couldn't recall ever hearing the archers age.

"Who says that's his real birthday?" She replied, and when he turned to look at her she was smirking over her mug. "Or that mine's my real one?"

"Spies!" He said through an exasperated breath, hands being thrown in the air to show he gave up. "Is anything real about you two?"

"His name's Clinton, my name's Natalia." She shrugged, still smirking a little. "We can kick ass. What more do you need to know?"

Touché..

He sighed and let his head fall to his chest when the sound signalling another failed model went off, his arms falling down the side of the desk chair as he pretty much deflated.

He was running out of ideas and he still hasn't found anything close to a solution..

"Tony.." Natasha said softly, walking over to hunker infront of him. "Just leave it for a while.. Come up stairs for a rest and clear your mind."

"They obviously aren't letting people in to see him..?" He asked in a whisper, his eyes not moving from the ground. He was failing, and he couldn't live with that.

"Well I'm here, so what do you think?" She replied through the slightest of laughs, her hands resting on his knees. She had done this a million times. Never with him though.

He had seen her do this with Clint. After bad missions, after something would happen. Sometimes, the pair would return, and the look in Clint's eyes would tell the rest of the Avengers that something shit had happened. He'd lock himself in the bathroom for maybe an hour, sometimes more, never really less. Natasha would act like it was normal, and eventually the others acted like it too. They stopped asking what was wrong or what happened, started ignoring the tear marks on his cheeks, started ignoring his red raw hands that were obviously scrubbed to oblivion. He'd go into his own world while with them, and this is what Natasha would do. She'd smile, and joke, and she'd slowly bring him back from wherever his mind was at, even if she wasn't alright herself, she'd try make him alright. This was real. This was the real Natasha that only Clint ever got to see. None of the others were trusted enough to get this glimpse, and it had Tony cocking an eyebrow at her.

True to her Black Widow ways, she could pretty much read his question from his expression.

"He would have gotten hurt regardless of if you barged in or not." She whispered, her eyes locking with his. "Doom was ready for him, waiting for him. He would have left that door closed, locked us out, while Clint lay there bleeding out on the floor. You may have abandoned the plan, but doing so saved his life. He owes you his life, I owe you. Don't think otherwise."

Dammit..

He hated that she was always right..

* * *

"To the fishing hole with you!" Thor boomed with a grin, causing a snicker to break out across the room.

"It's just 'Go fish'.." Natasha said through an amused smile, pulling a card from the deck anyway. Tony didn't know why they hadn't given up trying to teach Thor how to play games from Earth! He can never get them, but it's fun to see!

They had been in the room for far too long. None of the team wanted to leave, meaning that Pepper and Sam were left running around for all of them.

Five days ago, they brought a barely alive Clint to the tower. Four days ago, they were allowed see him for an hour at a time and only one at a time. Three days ago, they all broke that rule and spent the whole day, all of them, by the archer's bedside. And none of them dared move then in case a) he actually woke up, and b) the doctors got brave and actually locked them out.

It didn't stop Tony's work though. He had his phone out for those three days straight running simulations, going through medical papers online, trying everything to give Clint his shooting back before he woke.

He glanced at the archer and frowned a little more, his hand of cards falling just a little.

It shocked him. It shocked them all, the state Clint found himself in.

He had a bandage around nearly everywhere. His whole torso, from the hole in his chest that doctors concluded was something to electrocute him enough to cause cardiac arrest and from the broken ribs he suffered, his head had a nice fresh bandage around it, no cut but a bad bump that needed constant icing. And, yes, his arm..

Or lack there of..

They saved just the bare minimal below the shoulder, so where his strong and muscled right arm used to be, there was now just a stump wrapped tightly in fresh white bandages. They were changed every 12 hours or so, and none of the team could stomach watching that just yet.

There was a tube down his throat breathing for him when they first arrived, when he was taken out of surgery, but the next day that was taken out and he was alot stronger by the time the team were allowed in to see him.

More importantly, the presvious day, he was showing signs of waking. Just little eye movements or hand twitches, but enough to give the team hope that he will soon enough.

He couldn't remember who brought the deck of cards down, but it was a solid idea. They were sitting around the room for hours teaching Thor all the card games they could possibly think of. They went through all the basic ones, like poker and black jack. They had to call off playing Bullshit when one round ended with Natasha trying to knock out Tony for bullshitting.. Even thought that's the whole point of the game!

They had this unspoken rule that no one was to mention the elephant in the room. Clint would survive, he'd be fine, he'd be playing cards with them by tomorrow. That's all any of them were allowed think about.

His phone beeped once more, for easily the hundredth time in the past three days. The team fell silent, an uneasy feeling coming into the room as Tony typed some new figures into the phone. They all knew by now that the sound meant yet another idea failed and helping Clint was creeping closer and closer to impossible.

"Asgard have many healers.." Thor said quietly, Stark too busy fixing the model once again to look at anyone else. "I do not know if they can help this sort of ailment, but if Stark can not find a solution, I can ask."

"Use magic?" Steve asked, confusion in his voice.

"Magic doesn't exist." Tony said quietly, not knowing how many times he's had this argument with Thor. "It's just science that we haven't figured out yet."

"Whatever you wish to call it, they may be able to help our friend." Thor replied sharply, giving Tony the slightest of grins as he pocketed his phone. He loved winding the God up. It usually gave Barton a laugh too, the rest of the team not so much.

"Thanks Thor." Natasha said with a nod, sending Tony a look that said to drop the fight. "I'm sure Clint would love something like that. He always talks about sneaking after you to Asgard."

"Well if it will boost the man's spirits, I can ask father to grant him access." Thor grinned. Tony knew now why Natasha wanted him to drop it. She was too smart sometimes. Thor wanted to feel like he was helping, and Natasha was more than happy to let him make himself feel better about the situation. "Save the healers the trip down to Midgard also!"

"Your dad knows of us?" Bruce asked with an eyebrow raised. All the teams cards were long since discarded on the little table, more interested in the topic at hand.

"Of course he does!" Thor laughed, nodding his head in earnest. "The All-Father must know of the warriors of Midgard! He questioned many facts after Loki was taken back to the confines of Asgard. He wished to know the damage caused by my brother. He was told many tales of the whole team, especially the archer. To this day, none of us know how Barton survived Loki's control so well."

Even Odin, ruler of all nine realms, had a soft spot for Clint.

If that couldn't be considered the highest form of compliment out there, then Tony didn't know what could.

The heart monitor suddenly quickening it's pace was the first indication that something was happening.

The whole team snapped their attention to the archer's bed, Natasha and Bruce jumping to their feet the second something changed.

Tony stood so he could get a better view, seeing Clint's head move side to side a little as Natasha tried coax him around. She was speaking softly, quietly, so he couldn't catch what was being said.

It worked though, because a tense minute later, Barton's eyes pulled together before slowly opening up. The whole room was quiet, even Natasha had fallen still with her hand resting on Clint's, just to let him come around fully.

His eyes wandered the room, taking in the whole scene. They scanned from Natasha by his side to Bruce checking his vitals. Then around to Steve, Thor, and Tony.

"You're ok, Clint." Natasha said a little louder, her hand going to his cheek. They was he jumped had Romanoff retracting her hand. You'd swear she electrocuted him or something. "You were hurt bad.. Really bad. But you're alive, and you'll heal. Be back in the field in no time."

That was an odd ritual between them. Whenever one would come around from surgery or after getting knocked out, that sentence would happen. 'You were hurt. You're alive. Be back in the field in no time.', usually along those exact lines. There was still alot to know about the history between those two, and the questions mounted more and more each passing day.

Something was wrong. His eyes weren't clearing like they usually would. The confusion wasn't passing, the fear was growing, his heart rate picking up. It had a knot forming in Tony's stomach. He knew that Clint must be in a world of pain right about now, but that wouldn't cause such a reaction. Something was definitely wrong.

He started fidgeting then, trying to move back from Natasha as he eyed her up and down.

Then came the sentence that shattered whatever hope they of bringing Clint Barton back to them. Six words spoken in a hoarse, hushed tone, that made five hearts shatter instantaneously.

"Who the hell are you guys?"


	4. Chapter 4

Ok.. Blame _BlackHawk's Child_ for stealing my muse and making it damn near impossible to write this chapter! (Oh, little plug by the way cause she deserves it; go read her stuff. She's awesome and has this mission lately to try kill me.)

But, he came back to me tonight, so enjoy!

NiomLamboise; Thank you for the review! Hope this is worth the wait :)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; As an Engineer I can safely say that duct tape will not withstand the water level if said emotions include tears! So *Uses super glue* You have no idea how much your review means to me then! Thank you and I hope you enjoy this! :)

BanditFox; Ahhh killing people! My favourite past time in life! :D I joke, I joke.. I just like poking them until they give up sometimes.. All will be answered even though none of those were questions but yeah! Glad you enjoyed it and I hope you enjoy this one :)

ELOSHAZZY; Sorry for taking a while to update! I'm glad you're liking it! :) All will be answered, don't worry! Just give the little Hawk some time! And I do plan bromance in the coming chapters alright! And very very VERY protective Tony! :P Thanks for the review and I hope you enjoy :)

Cori; ...I hope you mean another chapter and not another story cause y'all gots ta stop requesting sequels off me! o.o Glad you liked it! :)

SealOfApproval; So, this thing happens when I get compliments like that. I kind of tear up a little, so whatever shirt I'm wearing get pulled up over my face and I make this weird squealing sound. Just so happened I was in the field when I got the email with your review, so this had to be done with an army jacket that's designed tight so I got stuck and the newbies had to help me out of it.. Seriously, thanks you! I don't think I should be a favourite of anyone's, maybe just a glancing read from time to time, but thank you so much! Hope this was worth the wait :)

Disclaimer; Clint; I'm told that this StumpyTPDimples one doesn't own us.. The team don't want me helping her, wonder why..?

* * *

He couldn't figure this out.

He was usually fine with making sense in even the most confusing of situations, been told more than once how smart a kid he was for it, but this just had him stumped.

"Clint..?"

They knew him by name. By first name at that. And the red head felt comfortable enough around him to say it so softly, so casually, even if he could pick up a tone of panic.

It was getting a little harder to breathe now, from panic or whatever pain had earned him a trip to this hospital, he couldn't tell.

"Come on, Barton. Quit messing with us." He looked to the new voice to see a guy with a beard and an AC/DC shirt. He honestly looked like he was about to collapse, to Clint's eyes anyway.

"Tony."

Another man, one who was beside him, opposite the red head, said with a warning tone.

Clint tried flinch away when the guy brought a hand up, but his body screamed at him to relax. Sure enough, all this guy did was grab an oxygen mask and carefully fixed it to place on Clint's face.

"Clint, I'm Doctor Banner. Remember me?

He stared at the man for a moment, the others completely silent as he tried place the man's name, or face, or anything about him really.

Nothing was coming to mind though, so he slowly shook his head. Much to Clint's surprise, the man wasn't upset or annoyed. Or, at least, he tried hide it if he was.

"That's alright. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?" He said softly, an eyebrow slightly raise. He had such an easy going and friendly face it made Clint really want to trust him.

The last thing he remembers..

Tough question.

He shut his eyes as he thought about it, the task bringing about a bit of a headache, but he carried on rooting through his memories anyway.

Chisholm needed his help with something.

What was it? Never anything good with that man, that's all he knew..

Some heist.

He needed another shooter to help with a heist. They got there alright. Something was screaming at him though, something telling him that these two situations are connected.

Did something happen? Did they get caught? Were these guys guards who were worried they hurt him a little too much and hoped he'd have forgotten?

Guards..

The word sent an image of an arrow flying through his mind, his ever trusty weapon of choice finding it's mark.

Only, it wasn't some random guards shoulder the tip embedded itself into like Clint first thought when he nocked the weapon.

"Barney!" He gasped, his eyes shooting open as he tried sit upright. The people in the room seemed ready though, because the doctor and the red head tried hold him down before he even nearly got up.

They were keeping them. They had Buck and Barney some where!

He needed to know they were ok, needed to make sure his brother got out alright and wasn't currently fighting some group off with an arrow in his shoulder.

"Where is he!?"

"Who's-"

"His brother." The red head cut off the doctor, her eyes meeting Clint's then.

Her eyes screamed safe, screamed home. He knew those eyes. He's seen them before, but why couldn't he place them?

"Little Hawk.. Listen.." She started, shocking Clint into silence.

Little Hawk.. How'd she..?

"Barney's fine. He's off the grid working right now. You're in alot worse shape, so I need you to relax. You do that for me?"

He really didn't want to. He needed to get out here, find Barney, kill Buck for making him shoot his own brother. He couldn't do that if he calmed down. But his body wouldn't listen to his mind. It betrayed him and relaxed under the pairs touch, under this red head's gaze.

"Good man." She smiled, the hands leaving then.

He felt heavy, tired, sluggish. But no pain what so ever. Whatever they had him on was good stuff!

"Can you guys leave this to me and Bruce?" He just about heard the red head say, mumbles of agreement and shuffling of feet quickly following.

Once everyone was gone, and his bed was raised a little more, the pair sat either side of Clint and watched him for a moment.

"Clint." The woman started, finding herself lost for words then, judging by the face she made. She looked to the doctor guy and he gave a shrug.

"From where he remembers."

"How much have I forgotten?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, a little panicked now. Must be a few months is they're so worried!

"Hawk, my name's Natasha. Remember me at all?"

The name struck something fierce in his brain. Something wanted to remember her, something screamed at him to bring back the memories, but nothing surfaced. Slowly, sadly, he shook his head.

She didn't seem phased at all, she just continued on. "You asked about Barney. Last thing you remember shooting him in the shoulder?"

She's good..

He didn't know how she knew that, but he nodded anyway.

"Which first?" He heard her whisper to the doctor, not knowing what she meant nor what he was implying when he raised his arm a little. These people were freaking him out a little. They seemed to have this odd ability to communicate without even uttering a word to one another.

"Clint.." Bruce sighed, gaining said man's attention. "Have you noticed anything since waking? Any pain?

"Honestly doc, whatever y'all have me on has me numb all over right now." He sighed, not liking how the oxygen mask made the hot breath hang around his face a moment longer than usual.

Another pause between the two. "Why..?"

"You were seriously injured, Clint.." Bruce eventually said, the older man rubbing a hand over his face. He looked exhausted.

Now that Clint thought about it, the group of them looked pretty warn out while they were here.

"It took everything we have to save you.. You lost so much blood and.." He was beating around the bush. He may have only met the man, but Clint could tell just by the way he shuffled in the chair that there was something really wrong. "You have to know, we tried everything. But there was just too much damage and.."

"Just spit it out." Clint growled after Banner took yet another pause.

H didn't speak though. He just reached over and grabbed the blanket that was up to Clint's shoulders. Slowly, he pulled it down, and when his arm suddenly and unexpectedly stopped, Clint felt like getting sick.

There was basically no arm at all, just a stump wrapped tightly in a white bandage.

"What..?" He breathed out, his eyes going wide as he stared at where the limb used to be. What the hell happened!?

He didn't take a blow to the arm! Did they take his arm so he couldn't shoot anymore? Did these people think him that much of a threat?

No, wait.. Trickshot..

When he went back for Barney, after shooting him, Trickshot let an arrow fly and it buried itself deep in Clint's own shoulder. That bastard did this to him!

"Clint!" Natasha's voice broke through his thoughts, and he glanced her way to see worried eyes watching him.

His chest was getting tight and breathing hurt now.

"My arm.." He said quickly, his voice a whisper since air was still refusing to stay in his lungs. "He took my arm from me.. I'm an archer! I can't be an archer with one arm! How am I to make a living now!? I can't put on my show!"

"Barton, listen to me." She said softly, a stern edge to her words though. She was gripping his hand, but he couldn't feel it with whatever medication he was on. "We're looking for a way to fix it. Tony's been working non-stop for you. Just breathe."

He couldn't.

He shook his head quickly and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that all of this was just one bad nightmare, and they he'd wake up 10 minutes before his show time to Trickshot banging his trailer door like every other day.

But he couldn't seem to escape.

He was still in that room, the hurried and worried voices of the people he didn't know, but somehow who knew him, filling his ears.

A moment later, after falling into a full on panic attack, he felt something prick his skin and a drowsy feeling quickly took hold of his whole body.

A bit of feeling returned for the last few seconds of his conscious state. The calming feeling of someone running a hand though his hair made him feel alot safer about giving into sleep.

* * *

"I don't know how. But that's all he remembers."

"And how long was that before he left?"

"When he shot Barney, Chisholm just disappeared, and Clint never went back to them. He wandered for a while, nearly a year, before Fury got to him."

"So he doesn't remember anything of SHIELD? Or of us..?"

"That's what it looks like.."

The red head was here again. What did she say her name was? Natasha? That was it.

"Natasha..?" He called, trying to be loud, but it came out strained more than anything. He didn't want to open his eyes yet, especially not after what he just heard, but he needed some water.

Feeling was back to him this time around. He can safely say he had never felt such pain. His ribs felt like they were on fire each time he took a breath, his muscles screamed and begged to be put out of whatever misery they were in. And his arm. His lack of arm.. That was oddly numb..

"Hey sleeping beauty.." A soft voice replied a moment later, and he could just feel a hand resting on his good shoulder. "What's up?"

"Water?" He croaked out, peeking his eyes open a fraction to see a smiling Natasha. It seemed to be a forced smile. He didn't know how he knew that, but he just knew that wasn't her real smile. There was another guy behind her, one of the ones who was in here earlier. Big guy, leather jacket and a too tight shirt on him, some ruffled blond-brown hair giving away that it should be styled and neat, but the guy seemed to not care about it right now.

Natasha nodded and reached over to the bedside cabinet, grabbing a glass that was already there waiting before placing the straw between CLint's lips. "Little sips, ok?"

He nodded and did just that, taking little sips of the cool liquid until his throat no longer felt like sandpaper. It helped clear his mind a little too, thankfully! He didn't take his eyes off the newcomer, he was smiling at Clint in that fake way, though he must have had alot less practice than Natasha, because his was way too obviously fake.

"Clint.. Good to see you awake. Had us all worried." The guy said with a slightly uneasy grin when Natasha took the cup from the archer's lips. He approached the bed slowly, his hand scratching the back of his head. He wasn't used to these situations, Clint decided. "I'm Steve.. Steve Rogers. Might not know it, but we're good friends."

That name, he knew. Not that it brought any memories flooding through his mind of the person, but rather he knew it from one of his friends in the circus. He was obsessed with the great Captain America from World War 2. But that guy died in a plane crash, so this was just some crazy coincidence!

"Really?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, wincing a little when Natasha moved the bed to a sitting position. He knew it would ease alot of his pain, but it caused a fair bit of pain in the process. "Your folks must have really loved Captain America to give you a name like that.."

"Well Rogers?" Natasha asked, turning her attention away from Clint to give Steve an odd grin. "You gonna tell him?"

"Not think that's a bit much?" Steve asked with an eyebrow raised, confusing Clint more than he already has.

Natasha shrugged and turned her attention back to the injured archer. He froze a little when she ran a hand through his hair.

"Clint, listen.." She started, her tone softening quite a bit. "I'm sure you know by now your memory has a gap.."

He nodded slightly, letting her go on if she wanted.

"Do you have any idea how big that gap is?" She asked quietly, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed as she watched him.

They were acting way too weird with him. They seemed to know him, they were upset that he didn't remember them. She talked about him leaving the circus - that one he couldn't believe - but then she said he wandered for nearly a year before someone got him. So, a little more than a year..?

That was his best guess, and it actually scared him that twelve whole months of his life could just be gone.

"A year? Little more?" He replied with an eyebrow raised, the look that crossed her face made his heart sink and his voice come out as a whisper. "Alot more..?"

"I think you had enough shocks today.." She whispered back, her hand going through his hair again. He never realised how much the simple action could calm him, but now he really wanted to know.

"How long?" He asked a little stronger, looking between both Natasha and Steve for the answer. The pair exchanged a look before Steve finally spoke up.

"We have your file, if you want.." He said with a slight shrug. He reached back and pulled out a folded up manilla file from his back pocket.

He stared at it for a moment, debating with himself. He didn't know if he actually wanted to know what lay in that little file, didn't know if he wanted to break whatever little illusion he built himself since awake that it was still 1999 and he was just recovering from a botched heist.

"I'll leave it right here.." Steve soon said with a smile, placing it down on the bedside cabinet within the archers reach. Clint's eyes didn't leave it.

"Just.." He started to say, clearing his throat a little before continuing. "What year is it.. At least tell me that.."

Silence. His eyes were still glued to the file so he couldn't see the look on their faces. If he opened that, then he'd know. It would say it somewhere, or at least have a general mention of what kind of time it is. But he just didn't want to open it.

"Clint, I.."

"Just what year." He cut Natasha off with a sigh, his shaking hand rubbing over his face to try calm himself. "That's all I want to know right now.."

"2015." Steve finally said, and from the way the bed shifted, he could just tell Natasha was giving him a sour look.

His hand paused on his face, covering his eyes as his mind tried process that.

2015..

That's 16 years. 16 years of his life that he can't remember. 16 years of his life that just aren't there anymore.

That's nearly half of his life, half of his time on this planet, that he has absolutely no clue what any of it was spent doing.

2015..

"Clint." Natasha soon said, a stronger side to her voice, obviously to pull him from his thoughts.

"16 years, Tash.." He whispered with wide eyes, letting his hand fall so he could look at her. The nick name just rolled off the tongue before he could stop it. "16 years.."

"I know. I know, Clint." She whispered back, taking his cheeks in her hands then so he'd look her in the eyes. "It'll be ok, I promise."

"It's 2015.." He whispered quickly, shaking his head a little as the thought finally settled. "Natasha, it's 2015. Not 1999.. That can't be right, it can't be! I can't have so many years missing! Why is it all gone!?"

"Shh Clint, it's ok." She said quietly, her hands stroking his cheeks, his hair, anywhere she thought would calm him. But this was just a little too much. "We're going to help you. You can get it all back, you will get it all back, just trust me."

He willed his body not to give in, willed it to stay strong and just deal with this like a man. But nothing he did managed to stop the choked sob that escaped his lips. It shocked Natasha, her eyes growing in concern as another sob quickly followed. They soon became unstopable, as did the tears that streamed down his face.

She didn't hesitate in pulling him into a hug, holding him close as he cried into her shirt. It was the most unmanly moment of his life, but after the events of today, his emotions were too shot to hell to care.

He wrapped his only remaining arm tightly around Natasha like she was his lifeline, like he was cast out at sea and she was the only thing able to keep him afloat. Because that's exactly how he felt

He couldn't remember most of his life. He couldn't remember a damn thing.

He didn't know who he was, what kind of man he had become. He didn't know what he loved or hated, didn't know who his friends were. He didn't know a damn thing about this Clint Barton and it just broke him into a million pieces.

He didn't know how he was getting out of this mess. Right now, it seemed like there was no way at all.

* * *

"We were close..?"

"You could say that."

He smiled a little at her reply, not only because it was a nice thought, being close to Natasha in whatever sense both of them meant. But mainly because a chuckle rippled through her chest when she spoke. It was the first he's heard something like that from her since he woke.

It took him nearly an hour to calm down from his sobbing. He felt embarrassed, and seriously bad for breaking down infront of these people, but neither of them seemed to mind. The only reason he calmed down was because he wore himself out enough to fall asleep, secure in Natasha arms.

She probably had a billion better things to do than console a broken archer, probably had a billion better people to be with, and Clint hated that he was keeping her from her life. But she didn't budge.

She could have when he fell asleep, could have set him on the bed and left, but she didn't. She just held him as he slept, and even when he woke and was just lying there, she held him and whispered some reassurances to him. It's what had the question leaving his lips before he could stop it. But he just got the feeling she meant more to him than he knew, and maybe he meant something to her too.

"And the others?" He asked with an eyebrow raised, nuzzling her chest a little to get comfy. The room was dark when he woke, the other man, Steve, no where to be seen.

"They're our team." She whispered back, hearing the smile in her voice was nice. She must have sensed the question on his lips, because she continued. "We.. Well, we save people. Help the world."

"Like.. Superheroes..?" He asked after thinking about it for a moment, and another chuckle left her.

"You always wanted to be one of those.."

He smiled a little to himself. He seriously did. The way he shot arrows, the way the kids eyes lit up when he performed his tricks, that's as close as he figured he'd ever get, and he was fine with that.

"I don't even know their names.." He said softly, letting his eyes close again as he felt sleep try take him again. "They all looked at me like I'm their best friend when I woke, and I can't even say for sure I know them.."

"Well, you know Steve and Bruce right now.." She said quietly. "Then there's just Tony and Thor left.. They're nice."

"Thor.." He said slowly, his eyes slowly peeking open. "As in..?"

"As in the God of Thunder." She confirmed like it was the most natural thing in the world, his eyes going wide as he tilted his head up a little to look at her. She just grinned at him. "You have a lot to learn.."

"A god..? I know a god?" He whispered in disbelief. That can not be possible!

"Technically.. You know two." She whispered, something he couldn't figure out crossing her eyes. It was gone just as quickly as it arrived.

"And Tony?" He asked after settling again, that being the last team mate he didn't know about now. "You mentioned earlier he was looking for a way to fix me, working non-stop.. So, are we close then..?"

Silence.

He didn't know how to take that.

"You two like to annoy eachother.. Have fun riling the other up to the point where the rest of us question if it's serious or just friendly banter.." She finally said. "But you've often told me how much you like him, trust him.. Even once drunkenly admitted that you respect the guy. I don't know if it's returned, Tony Stark is a man who keeps his cards close to his chest."

"Sounds like I do have alot to re-learn about my team.." He whispered, more to himself than to her.

"You should meet Bucky." She said after a while of silence, shifting a little to let him lie properly on the bed. He guessed it was his bed time, but he didn't mind. He was nearly asleep anyway. "He can help you through this, help you figure out ways to cope."

"Yeah?" He mumbled, nuzzling his pillow a little to get comfy.

"I think so. He's back in a week.. He's been through something similar.." She whispered, the feeling of lips on his forehead following then. "Now sleep, it's late. Goodnight, Little Hawk.."

"Night.." He mumbled, letting sleep take him as the soft sound of a closing door filled the room.

* * *

The click alerted him to someone entering the room. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing as even as possible, even if the heart monitor did pick up pace a little bit.

Shuffling feet, a chair being pulled, then a sigh, and whoever entered fell into a silence that made Clint think it was just his imagination, that there wasn't actually someone there.

"I'm sorry.."

The whispered words made him realise that he was right in his guess. He stayed still, stayed quiet. Whoever the voice belonged to wanted him to be asleep, otherwise they wouldn't have snuck in so late. So, he'd stay asleep.

"This is so messed up.." A sigh ended the words. Clint really couldn't place the voice, he didn't think heard it trough the day. "Tony Stark can build suits all day long, but do you think I can find some fucking way to give you an arm back? And then you go and throw lost memories in to the mix aswell.."

Tony Stark. Tony and Thor were the only two he hadn't met yet. Well, technically haven't met yet.

"This is all my fault. And what's worse is your selfish ass doesn't even remember that it is. How am I supposed to put on my sexy brooding face around you if you don't even know why I'm doing it?"

Tony's fault? No. It couldn't have been. He didn't know what had happened, hadn't gotten that far yet. Hell, he hadn't even opened his file yet. But he doubted whatever happened was Tony's fault. If it was, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be allowed so freely in to see the archer.

"The others keep saying it wasn't, that it would've happened with me there or not.." There we go. Clint would trust the others! "But they weren't there.."

Silence. If Clint hadn't heard the odd sighs coming from Tony, he would have assumed he left as quietly as he could. He froze when he felt a hand ontop of his.

"I'm so sorry Clint.." He whispered. Barton desperately wanted to tell him not to be, get this man to stop blaming himself, because there was no one to blame in situations like this. But he stayed still, stayed quiet, let Tony get his feelings out. "This is all my fault.. And now, we've completely lost you.."

His hand was gone and the sound of footsteps quickly followed his words. "I'll fix this. No matter what, I'll make you better again. We can't lose you. I can't lose a friend like this."

Clint kept his eyes shut as he processed that, the click of the door signalling that he was once again alone in his room.

The sincerity in the man's words made Clint think that maybe, just maybe, Tony could fix all of this. That maybe he'd get everything back in no time.

Maybe he didn't know who he was, didn't know much of anything about his life or his team. He didn't know what he did, didn't know where he lived. He didn't know what kind of man the 2015 Clint Barton was.

He didn't know any of that, but he knew he had people who cared for him, people who were still here even though he didn't remember them. He had people fighting to make him better, fighting to get him back to the man he was.

If a man is judged by the company he keeps, then damn, he liked the sound of the 2015 Clint Barton.


	5. Chapter 5

I haven't been gone for so long! You have!

Alright.. I suppose I have! Rough time, rough assignment, one that had me so fucked up I sat in a coffee shop for 12 hours handwriting stories and drinking tea because I couldn't be in my house. I digress though!

Enjoy!

Reviewers!

Niom Lamboise; It's Tony, he's gonna try play it cool! Glad you liked it :)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; Man, I cannot spell tragedies! Took me like four tries! NO JOKING ASIDE! I LIKE JOKING! JOKING IS FUN! I'm glad you liked it though :)

SealofApproval; Sorry it took me so long to do this! Thought I'd have it up alot sooner! I hope you like it and I'm glad you liked the last one :)

Cori; Well I have 10 planned so you have a few more to go! Glad you're enjoying it :)

ELOSHAZZY; Well I'm overjoyed you're liking it! It is your story after all, so you're the one I'm really aiming to please with it! Hope you like this one! :)

AnimeGirl58; *Hands you a tissue and cuddles you!* NO SOBBING! IT HASN'T ENDED! I WILL NEVER JUST LEAVE A STORY! THIS HAS 10 CHAPTERS AND DAMMIT I WILL GET IT TO THE TENTH CHAPTER! Glad you liked it, hope this one follows suit! :)

Disclaimer; *Points to previous chapters due to lack of wity disclaimer words and things and yeah.*

* * *

"Tony Stark! Get out of that lab right now!"

He snapped himself awake at the sound of the voice over the speaker system, wiping a bit of stray drool from his cheek in the process.

Pepper was mad.

That's all the information he could gather right now! He knew as soon as he lay his head onto the desk and felt sleep catch up on him way too easily that she'd be fixed to kill him for not sleeping in their bed again. For about the 30th time in a row, might he add.

"Don't stop Pep if she decides to come down here, J.. Probably make her angrier if you do." He sighed out, checking the search results his AI was looking through as he spoke.

Nothing.

Nothing that could help.

Tony was beginning to think there was nothing that could fix this whole mess.

It didn't seem to bother the rest of the team though. They were just going through day-to-day life like nothing had happened. Tony seemed to be the only one completely shaken by the whole experience.

Even more so than Clint.

He frowned a little as he thought of the fallen archer, tinkering with the final touches of a bionic arm he spent the past few days perfecting - a temporary measure, he assured Clint, or maybe he assured himself.

"Jarvis, can you send Sergeant Barnes down to me?"

"Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers have gone to get a cake, sir." The AI responded without missing a beat, causing one of the billionaire's eyebrows to raise.

Why a cake..?

"Tony! Quick!" He looked to the door of his lab to see a none too happy Pepper glaring his way. "Get cleaned and dressed before Natasha brings him back from physio!"

"Why would he give a shit what I look like?" He asked through a pout. "He normally just sleeps after physio anyway."

"Well I care how you look." She frowned, crossing the space between them to place a hand on his cheek. "He mightn't remember much, but he does remember his birthday. And I want to make sure he has a good day."

Shit.. That's today.

"You sure I should be there..?" He was worried around Clint, wary, acting like at any moment his memories would come flooding back and he'd snap at the billionaire for what he had done.

"He's brain damaged, not stupid." She smiled. Her hand slipped from his cheek and took his hand when she got no answer, ignoring the look he was giving her to instead lead him out of the lab for the first time in days. "He knows full well you've been avoiding him. He knows we're his family, and doesn't know what he's done to upset you."

"Went and lost an arm, that's what.." He grumbled under his breath. He hated how shit the fact he upset Clint made him feel. He probably shouldn't have been ignoring him, avoiding him. Probably shouldn't have made it seem like Clint had done something wrong, especially with how wary and cautious the archer was around them.

So, today, party Stark would make an appearance to make sure Clint had a perfect day!

* * *

"The one time I need someone to drink with me and you stay sober!" He exclaimed through a laugh, arms thrown in the air as a sign of giving up. "Dammit, Barton! You're killing me!"

"There are like 20 other people here.." He laughed, though now-a-days the sound always hurt Tony a little. It was always filled with worry rather than the usual Barton joy, like he was afraid he wasn't supposed to laugh.

"There are 6." Tony pouted, taking another sip of his whiskey as he sat back on the sofa, arm draping over Pepper's shoulders. "Four of whom just never get drunk.."

He nodded to Thor, Steve, Bucky and, yes, Natasha as the four in question. "And Sam and Pep just wouldn't be as fun as a drunk you is!"

Information overload.

He's noticed this over the past month that if they speak of things he should know about a little too much his eyes would glaze over a little and Tony can actually see the wheels turning as his mind tried recall the facts.

Bruce - who Pepper let stay in his lab cause he was close to something and they all know if Bruce wants to miss something like this for work then it's important - told Tony to keep testing it, see if something breaks through. He's been slacking, leaving it up to Natasha and Barnes to try out.

If something as subtle as those little facts space him out so much, he could only imagine how bad the major facts were.

"Tony's just teasing." Steve finally broke the silence in the group, having gone to get the archer a glass of water first. The stay quiet when Clint gets like that, always, just incase they ruin some trail of thought that would bring some memories back.

Clint took it from the Captain with a grateful smile, leaning back into Natasha's touch then, her hand playing with the nape of his neck in a comforting way.

"Thanks for today, guys. Means alot." Clint said with a genuine smile this time, and Tony could just feel the happiness of the group at the sight.

He was getting better. Even if his mind was still a little messed up, he was getting so much better. Injuries were nearly healed, a month on and he looked alot more human. Eating more, sleeping more, socialising with them more. The arm still bothered him though.

Tony couldn't help but let his gaze fell on the place where his right arm used to be, now just a rolled up and pinned back shirt sleeve covering a stump. In true Barton fashion - letting them know Clint was Clint like all throughout his life - he never complained. He just got on with things. The only two who say different or know different anyway were Barnes and Romanoff. Both were basically Clint's counsellors, helping him through the bad days where the archer would lock himself away in his room and refuse to come out.

They all understood it and never pushed him.

He was taken from his life and thrown into another time and place, thrown into someone elses life. He really didn't think even Steve or Bucky could fully understand it. Steve picked up where he left off. Barnes remembered pretty much everything he did before the brainwashing, even if some of it was hazy. They don't really have too many gaps in their memory, bar the few things Bucky can't remember in terms of time with Steve. But Clint built a life, continued on as normal, made friends, made a living, and now he's suddenly thrown out of it and can't remember a single thing.

"On Asgard; a day of birth of a friend is celebrated for many days. I apologise that we cannot do the same here, Clint." Thor sounded genuinely upset! Like a whole day of celebration and gifts wasn't enough for an assassin who would normally threaten them if they ever thought of doing anything for his birthday.

Circus Clint seemed to like celebration though. The smile refused to leave the archers face as soon as he walked in the door and saw the set up of the place. Banners were a little too much! He probably shouldn't have let Pepper away on her own with some sticky tape. They had a massive cake, and even though it was just the few of them celebrating with him, there was a mountain of gifts in the corner for Clint - all of which Tony bet his bank balance helped buy! Now it was evening, they could all see that Clint was getting tired, still not all that able to keep up with normal life. So they had all retired to the living area to have a drink and relax. No drink for Clint though since he was still on some strong pain killers. Tony missed his drinking partner already!

He was so happy about it all, so glad and grateful. This circus Clint wasn't like their Clint at all. Just how much did the years of service change him..?

"Don't give Tony ideas." Sam laughed, earning a snicker from the rest of the group.

He glanced at Clint who just looked confused and gave the archer a slight grin. "Last year, the two of us might have gone missing for about a week.."

"Really..?" Clint asked with slightly wide eyes, looking to Natasha for confirmation. She grinned and nodded.

"Around the time of Steve's birthday. The two of you got tequila in the bar then we lost you for five days. Eventually found you in some Irish bar.."

"In Ireland."

"In Ireland." Natasha laughed, repeating Steve's little addition to the story.

"Can't blame me! I don't remember it, but I'm pretty sure Barton was the bad influence!" He laughed. He loved how this memory seemed to be the only one that was actually making Clint smile rather than shut down in confusion.

"Tony?"

Everyone looked to the door at the voice, not just the owner of the name called.

Bruce stood there shuffling from foot to foot, glasses twiddling in his hands. They were the only signs Tony picked up on, because that's all he needed to see to know that something was wrong.

"Excuse me folks." He smiled, filling his glass with drink from the coffee table before standing to follow Banner from the room and towards the lab.

"What we got?" Tony asked once he caught up to the doctor, a sigh meeting his question.

"Nothing good." He replied quietly, even by Banner's standards.

Tony's shoulders sagged a little, not liking the sound of it. Tony had left Bruce to the task of figuring out a way to get Clint's memories back. He had the best medical knowledge of the group and these people were the only ones Tony trusted with Clint's recovery.

"How not good is nothing good?" He asked as he entered the lab with Bruce, being led through the room towards the computer the doctor was working on for the past while.

He froze before Banner even answered the question, because words weren't needed. Bruce had turned the screen around to face Tony and on it held something he never thought he'd see again.

"How did you..?"

"It's on Dooms public business page. Plans and all for the bastard thing. It seems like he wants to rub it in our faces. The device was only uploaded two days after the attack." Banner didn't need Tony to finish his question.

"Another trap?" Tony asked with an eyebrow raised, looking from the screen to Banner who looked just about ready to give up.

"I don't think so.." He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I think he knows we'd never plan on coming after him with Clint like this. He's just gloating.. But Tony, if these plans are right.."

"I'll call Natasha up.." Tony cut Bruce off, holding up a hand to stop him in his explanation. He knew what it meant if those plans were right, and he wasn't happy with it. "Jarvis, get Romanoff up here, will you? Barnes and Barton too."

"Right away, sir."

"Barnes and Barton?" Bruce asked with an eyebrow raised, arms crossing across his chest.

"Well, I need Natasha down here to talk about this or she'll kill us. Barton follows her everywhere and so Barnes can keep him occupied." He shrugged, moving then to go over to his side of the lab, his head turned a little to call back over to the doctor. "Besides, I have a present for Clint that Barnes will have to help him with."

"Finally got that working?"

Tony turned around and shot him a grin, holding his arms up a little before saluting the doctor with his whiskey glass. "I'm pretty awesome like that!"

* * *

"So then the electric pulses of the mind travel down the.."

"Mr. Stark."

Tony stopped his rambling explanation and looked to see Clint smirking at him. It took them nearly two weeks to get him used to calling them by their first names, and now Stark realised he only used prefixes when he wanted them to shut up about something.

"I don't understand a word you're saying. But it's an arm. So, thank you so much for all the work you did." Clint Barton never says 'Thank You'.. At least, he never did to Tony!

It had Stark clearing a lump from his throat as he went about securing the bionic arm into place. It may have had him a little emotional, he can admit that! Or it could be the lack of sleep and copious amounts of Whiskey..

"Awh Clint! You made him shy!" Natasha snickered from Barton's side, the sound of Bucky's laughter following.

They weren't gonna let him live this down anytime soon!

"Sorry.." Clint said quietly, giving Tony a shy smile of his own. Stark just shook his head and finished securing the arm, strapping the last restraint around Clint's chest.

"Gonna be uncomfortable for a little while. But you'll get used to it." He shrugged, stepping back to admire his handy work.

It wasn't like Bucky's completely. Bucky's was experimentally surgically implanted onto his body and connected to the brain like a normal arm would be. His had fluid movement and while it could have superhuman strength it also had the ability to be gentle and mimic a normal natural arm like it was child's play. He was even in the process of designing a synthetic skin with Stark to make it was realistic as possible. This just connected onto the stump and some sensors taped onto the skin caught the electrical signals the brain would normally send to the arm to make it move.

"Temporary?" Barnes asked with an eyebrow raised, eyeing Clint's arm suspiciously. He had become ridiculously protective of the archer over the past month. It was odd to see such a seasoned killer holding such a soft and caring side.

"Well, it's based off the scans Jarvis took of yours." Tony shrugged, taking a sip of his whiskey. Clint was just staring at the metal arm with a slight frown. "So it's nearly identical.. If we can't find another solution, I have a permanent one in development.."

He nearly whispered the last line, knowing that Clint kept his aids way down during the evening when he was tired, and if that didn't help then he also spoke to the pair in Russian because Clint only learned other languages in SHIELD and couldn't really catch most words now. He didn't want the archer to know he had considered giving up and just making a Sergeant Barnes replicated solution, but it had crossed his mind so much that a copy was nearly complete.

"How about shooting with this one?" Natasha asked, again in Russian. It had stopped fazing and annoying Barton. He once told Natasha that he just figured it was their first language and it was easier speaking in it. Natasha agreed, because the truth of them wanting to keep him out of the loop was just a little too harsh.

"Probably not.." He sighed, shaking his head a little. "He can try, but I don't know if it'll hold up under the pressure. There's alot in a bow string, you know?"

"One day at a time." Bucky said with a shrug, in English, as he sat beside Clint. "Able to move it?"

"I don't know how." Clint pouted, staring at the metal hand as if waiting for it to move. He looked like such a child that it made Tony grin a little, sitting there on one of the examination tables with curiosity painted across his face.

"It's not like your actual arm, with that the brain just knows to send signals." Bucky smiled, nudging Clint's leg with his own. Natasha and Tony were watching this in facination. They had never seen the soldier so relaxed with anyone other than Steve. "You have to think really hard about what you want it to do, have to make your brain tell the limb what it has to do. Then it'll start to come naturally to you."

Clint nodded, his eyes taking on a serious look Tony remembers seeing each and every time a mission was about to be taken on. But really, this was probably as difficult a mission as any they've ever taken on. They were literally rebuilding a man.

He smiled a little at the grin that crossed Clint lips when his ring finger moved a little, his excited eyes looking between the three of them.

"That a boy." Natasha grinned, if Tony didn't know any better he'd swear there were actual emotions in her voice.

"See? Not that hard." Bucky smiled, resting his arm on his lap like Clint had it on his. "Just do as I say, ok? I'll talk you through how I move mine."

Tony took the chance while Clint was distracted to tug Natasha's sleeve, nodding over towards Bruce's side of the lab when she looked to him. She followed without needing an explanation. It had just become normal for Tony to pull her aside to talk lately. They were all looking for ways to fix Clint, and Natasha was always the first one to talk to about things because she knew him better than he even knew himself right now so she knew what would work and what wouldn't.

"So, if it was good news, I wouldn't be pulled away from him." Natasha said through a sigh once she got over to Bruce's desk, patting the doctor on the back gently to let him know they were there before sitting next to him.

"Well, I don't know if it is or isn't." Tony shrugged, frowning a little when he realised he was out of whiskey.. The bottle was all the way upstairs..

"A search I was doing pulled up some plans and blue prints for what I think is the device Tony described.." Banner elaborated when Natasha shot Tony a strange look. "I don't know how it could be good news, but it's not great news.."

"Why not?" Natasha asked in confusion, her eyes on the screen where the plans for the device that Doom stabbed through Clint's chest were shown. "If you know how it's made and how it works, can't you two reverse engineer it?"

"Not that simple.." Tony whispered, refusing to look at the device. He may not have as much medical knowledge as Banner, but he knew what it had done to Clint just by the way it was designed. There were two prongs sticking out of the device, sharp to stab right through the chest walls. Inside the handle grip was a small motor, from the looks of it, even though a crude drawing, it was like the ones that would supply the voltage for a taser shock. Something like that penetrating so deep was not a good thing.

"Why not?" Natasha asked with a frown, her voice raising a little as anger surfaced. "You two are geniuses. You can do anything."

Tony sighed and looked to Banner, raising an eyebrow to see who'd be the one to tell her. The shrug the doctor gave meant that Tony was the un-lucky soul.

"Doom didn't want Clint coming after him again." Tony started, leaning back against the desk as he watched Natasha for any signs she was about to attack him. "He was specific about it. Right now, I don't know how he did it, but we've been looking into it for days. He somehow managed to target the memories involving anything of SHIELD, anything of Clint's life since joining. What was our first guess?"

"That he made Clint think of his life as an assassin, of missions. Made him bring memories of SHIELD up." Banner said with a nod, letting Tony go on then.

"Then this device was used to shock him, used to hit something inside Clint to just sever those memories from his mind." Tony said with a frown, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

"How did he..?" Natasha started, completely stumped if the look on her face was anything to go by.

"Doom is obviously way ahead of the rest of the world on memory and brain study." Tony shrugged. That was all he could think of.

If Doom was able to target specific memories and know the exact point to hit so those memories would no longer exist, then he obviously did some sort of research and knew way more than Tony could ever dream of. Even the best experts in the world didn't know how to 100% wipe memories, and definitely no where near as accurately as that.

"Why didn't he just kill him?" Natasha asked with a frown, shaking her head a little. "It makes no sense to just wipe the memories.. If he just killed Clint instead, then there'd be no chance of him ever coming back to get him.."

"We would have killed him." Tony replied without thinking. This had been a question he had asked himself millions of times before, and he found an answer at the bottom of a tequila bottle late one night. "If he killed Clint, then we'd have something to avenge, we'd have something to egg us on. We're dangerous on a normal level, maybe he was even scared of us. So us super pissed off would just be worse for him. So he wanted to break our spirits instead of ignite them. He wounded Clint more than we could ever dream of, he sent him back to us broken to make sure we wouldn't bother him again."

Silence.

He knew it was alot to take in. It even had Tony a little shocked, knowing that this guy they were supposed to take out was so far ahead of them in pretty much every sense of the term. He had no idea how to fight this guy, and he didn't even know if he wanted to anymore.

"So, how do we fix it..?" Natasha whispered, reproach in her voice. She didn't want to know this answer..

"I don't know.." Bruce said quietly, his eyes scanning the blue prints on the screen for what must be the thousandth time. "I really don't.."

"There has to be a way." Tony frowned, hoping that Bruce had come up with a solution. But the brain was one damn tricky muscle.

"I don't know." Bruce shrugged before he let his head fall to rest against the table. "Regrowing a limb is one thing, Tony.. I'm sure there's some scientific way of manipulating nature to do that.. But it's not like the memories are just locked away somewhere, from the looks of these notes they were severed just like his arm was.. And regrowing memories is completely different, and I'm pretty sure impossible.."

Silence.

This time, it was a silence that spoke a thousand words. Bruce had given up, Tony had given up, there was no way out of this situation. There was no way to help. There might have been when it was just his arm that needed attention, but now it was worse, now he didn't even remember who he was. Bruce was right, regrowing a limb was one thing, but it was definitely impossible to regrow memories.

Wait..

Regrow..

That's what they were trying to do! Tony had been so fixated on engineering a solution, on making something to make everything alright like he had spent his whole life doing. But that's not what nature does! Nature heals by regrowing, by evolving. When you cut yourself, you don't slap a metal piece of skin in place and call it fixed. You let your body regrow the skin and help itself.

Helping yourself regrow something needed a little push though since the human body really isn't capable of such things yet!

But, he has seen it done..

Without a word, he turned on his heels and ran from the lab, ignoring the calls from Natasha and Bruce and the odd looks from the metal armed pair as he passed.

He had seen this done, he had fought against this before, he had all the information he needed on this, and dammit he hated his brain for not thinking of this sooner!

He ran through the halls to his personal lab, the one that no one other than himself had access to. This is where he kept ideas and plans he knew no one else would agree with, and after the Ultron incident he just knew that none of the group would agree with him playing God again.

But this would work! This would make everything better! This would fix his arm, fix his memories, and hell it would probably fix any other little niggly things that had been bothering the archer over the years!

"Jarvis! I need a secure and encrypted project file opened up now!" He said to the AI with a grin when he burst into his lab, going straight to the mini bar to pour himself another whiskey. "And I need all files on AIM and their Extremis serum opened up! We have some serious work to do, buddy!"


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for taking so long! Life got in the way! Kinda nice and long one to make up for it though!

Reviewers;

amy. d. fuller. 9; Glad you're enjoying it! You'll see in the coming chapters what I have planned! But no one else has chopped off his arm? :o Thought that would have been done before!  
Thanks for your corrections! Shitty is used here too, but I hate using it for the simple fact I think it sounds so childish, so I try avoid it as much as possible! And whiskey and whisky are kinda the same taste to me! I know that there are differences, but auto correct constantly corrects it to whiskey cause here it's just spelled the one way and that's it! But thank you for letting me know! Hope you enjoy this one! :)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; I HAVE CONQUERED IT BY COPYING AND PASTING YOUR NAME! MWAHAHA! Would I end it badly!? ...Yes. The answer is yes. Catch me in a mean enough mood, and it would end badly! Hope you enjoy this one :)

ELOSHAZZY; I always had the idea that he was a completely different person in the circus, and that the years of SHIELD work changed him into a proper non-trusting assassin. So it was fun to play with! And really, does Tony ever know what he's getting himself into? ;) Glad you liked it and hope you enjoy this one!

Niom Lamboise; Stark feels guilty and Barnes is the only one who knows what he's going through; I thought they were the natural pair to care so much about what he's going through! Glad you liked it, hope this is worth the wait! :)

AnimeGirl58; *Poke* Still with me, pal!? Better be! I'm sorry I took so long! Life got in the way! Hope this doesn't let you down! :)

OK!

ENJOY! :)

Disclaimer; You guys don't even read this so what's the point..?

* * *

He didn't know how they did this thing all the time..

The suspense, the fear, the worry, it all had him sweating buckets. Maybe other Clint was used to this, maybe he was as good as if not better than the three around him right now.

"Well Clint? You in or out?" Natasha asked from across the table. She was leaning in close to him with a scary smile.

He gulped a little and scratched the back of his head, the metal arm he received a few weeks previous twitching involuntarily.

"Big stakes, Clint.." Steve said by his side. His eyes held worry and Clint couldn't blame him! He knew what was up for grabs here, knew the risks. He knew what Clint had in his hand though, knew how it could go.

Did he know Natasha's..?

"We understand if you walk away.. We shouldn't have come to you for help with this mission." Bucky added with a nod, his over attentive eyes watching Natasha.

"Well, he was the only one who could ever stop me.." Natasha smirked, leaning back in her seat then with her hands behind her head. "But this Clint doesn't stand a chance.."

He shot her a smirk of his own as he leaned in on his elbows to stare her down. "I grew up in the circus.. I think I can handle it."

"Money where your mouth it, big boy." Romanoff whispered with a smirk before she rose to her feet. He followed suit, staring the woman across from him down for a moment.

"All or noting?" He asked calmly. He had to think about what he could win from this battle if it was any other rules except for all or nothing. He had nothing, she had all. Her smirk grew scary.

"Well, Mr. Barton.. Seems some things with you never change.. You're on."

He threw his hand down with a grin, feeling there was no way she could beat him with this one!

"Straight flush! 9 high!"

"Oh dear.." She sighed as she shook her head in disappointment. The way Steve tensed beside him and Bucky quite ungracefully face planted the table told him that it was all fake.

"No.." He whispered, his shoulders sagging as he realised what that meant.

"Sorry dear! But I don't think they royals like being beat."

He let out a curse and scratched his head roughly when she overturned a royal flush - in hearts and all!

"Dammit, you cheated!" He pouted as he sank back into his seat, his arms folded in a huff.

Bucky's head shot up with side eyes not even a half a second later. Clint raised an eyebrow at his expression but when he looked to Steve for an explanation the Captain had the same terrified look.

His arm twitched.

He was beginning to think that it was some odd warning to danger. He'd have to ask Tony about that!

"Run. Like now."

"Five seconds ago would have been good." Bucky added to Steve's comment with a thoughtful nod. His cheating comment must've been something that just shouldn't be said!

Slowly, he looked to Natasha with wide eyes. He'd read his file inside and out. He knows just how deadly this woman is, and she's not someone he'd ever want on his tail!

She was just smiling though, her shoulders shaking a little to give away her quiet chuckle.

"He gets a pass this time!" She smirked, the other two males staring at her like it was the most ridiculous thing they've ever heard.

He huffed when she held her hand out, knowing exactly what she wanted. He stood when she wouldn't back down, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, and pulled them down before throwing them to her. It left him completely naked like Steve and Bucky who were knocked out earlier in the game

He was pretty sure Natasha lost zero clothes in this entire game!

"I hate this game.." He mumbled with a pout which just earned laughs from the other three as he stormed from the room.

He wasn't really mad or annoyed, it was all just a bit of fun after all. But they seemed to know that anyway so he didn't need to explain! They all seemed to know every little thing about him, so there was never any need to explain anything he did.

He smiled a little shyly at Pepper when he met her in the halls, his hand covering his lower region out of respect to the woman. She just gave him a knowing smile though. She turned on her heels to walk the way Clint was going.

"Strip poker?" She asked though a chuckle and he nodded even though he was facing her back and she couldn't see. "With Nat?" She pushed.

She was grinning. He could tell that now because she was facing him with his bedroom door held open.

"Yep!" He chuckled, popping the 'p' at the end as he stepped into his room. First and foremost, he went over to pull on some new boxers.

"Should have warned you about that." She laughed. She was over by his dresser pulling out some clothes for him.

"Bucky and Steve were convinced I could take her." He shrugged. He turned to face her when he had his boxers on so she could help him.

It had been a month and a half since he got the new arm, and he really was getting better with it! But he still needed help with the finer finicky things like jeans and shirts and basically things with buttons or zippers. He felt like such a baby, but none of them seemed to mind helping him out. Natasha claims that until he can actually catch a ball they throw to him, he needs help.

It was usually Nat who would help, mainly because she never left his side - rather he never left hers - so it was only logical that she be the one to help. But when she wasn't here, and he'd be glad that he could try for himself and prove he didn't need to be babied, someone would magically appear and do it for him. He couldn't figure out how they always knew.

"Well, you were always the only one to be able to beat her." She smiled.

Cameras. Surely that's how they do it! A tower as high tech as this; he couldn't doubt the thought that there may be cameras in his room.

"You have to be joking.." He raised an eyebrow, watching as she buttoned up his shirt after helping him into it. "I couldn't find a single tell on her face to even guess a bluff!"

"She's a highly trained assassin and spy. I'd bet all my money on the fact it took you years to figure her out."

"And what was I..?" He asked in a whisper.

Her hands paused in her work. He figured he hit on something.

None of them would answer why his file has so many blacked out spaces - literally crossed out and scribbled with a black marker - and why most of it only talks about Avengers and nothing before.

"This group only came to be in 2012. Even the little bits of information before that is spare at best and seriously confusing. Pepper, what was I?"

She held his gaze for the longest time. He guessed she was searching for something, what though he didn't know.

"You're not the same man as you were at the circus, Clint.." She said softly, her hands finishing up his buttons. "But that's definitely not a bad thing. You're a hero."

"Was I an assassin?" He whispered in shock. He found himself sickened by the thought. He didn't mind that Natasha was one. She did some brilliant work from what he's been told and seemed to be out of the game right now. But he wouldn't be able to handle it if he knew he had killed people.

He didn't want that on him, didn't want to take someone's life. He even hated shooting at guards during heists.

"Is that how I lost my arm?" He asked with slightly wide eyes, paling at the thought. "Was I trying to kill someone?"

"I'm not the person to answer these questions, Clint." She frowned as she took his good arm to lead him to the bed. She sat next to him on the foot of the mattress and rubbed his back in small circles.

"Who is then?"

She nodded towards the door. When he looked from her face to the door he just about saw Steve and Bucky scurrying off as quickly as possible. Clint, even dispite the situation and the thoughts swimming through his mind, had to smile when Natasha facepalmed at the soldiers actions.

"Absolute cowards.. One can take on a whole Hydra base on his own, the other nearly single handedly brought down SHIELD, and yet neither can face a simple question!" She wasn't annoyed. He only really knew Natasha about three months, two and a half really, but he knew her annoyed voice.

He couldn't place the one she held now though.

"Well, can you?" Pepper asked by his side.

Natasha let out a shaky sigh as she lowered her hand. When her eyes met Clint's, the word swam around his mind. He didn't know how he knew, he didn't know where it came from, but the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.

Fear.

"Not if he takes it how Bucky did.."

Silence.

Very tight and awkward silence, because he knew both women were just staring him out of it. It had him finding a very interesting spot on the carpet to look at.

"Pepper.." Natasha finally sighed causing Clint to look up, just in time to see her run a hand though her hair with a frown. "Too risky to print it all out, but pull it up on one of Stark's pads for him.."

"You sure?" Pepper asked carefully. She rose to her feet though even before Natasha nodded with a smile.

She moved from the doorway to ruffle Clint's hair. "My partner can handle it!"

Clint shot her a smile to let him know he could.

Though he seriously didn't know right now if that was entirely true. He trusted Natasha though.

She waited until Pepper was gone from the room before speaking again. "If you get bad, if you feel panicked after reading it, go up two floors and third door on the right leads to the roof. Little hidden area up there you did up for yourself when you first moved in here.."

Her words trailed. There was some reason for him making a little place that she didn't want him knowing about right now. He understood, and didn't push.

"I guess the others don't know?" He commented with an amused smile, trying to lift the mood she had fallen into.

Her grin told him all he needed to know. "Stark has JARVIS everywhere here. You wanted somewhere away from him, and honestly, you love the view."

"And you know about it because..?" He let the sentence trail into a question.

"You actually build one everywhere you go. Not always on the roof, but you always find somewhere in a building where no one would be able to find you in case something happened and you wanted to be alone." She shrugged, sitting next to him then. "Followed you up one night. You weren't happy with it, but it was after a bad mission and I needed to make sure you were ok."

"You should write me a book.." He sighed softly. He took the tablet from Pepper with a grateful smile when she brought the device in.

"It would probably be alot better than a boring file." Pepper smiled.

His attention was on Natasha though. She was standing and following Miss Potts to the door.

She paused though and smiled back at Clint. "I think you should do this alone. just know that you made the world a much better place with each and every mission. We'll just be down the hall if you need us."

She didn't give him a chance to answer. Natasha probably knew that he'd just beg her to stay just in case he needed her.

He let out a sigh when the door shut behind the two women. The only sound filling the room for longest time was his bedside clock ticking and tocking.

"Ok Clint.." He sighed to himself after nearly 20 minutes of just staring at the little electronic device in his hands. He tapped his metal fingers off the device to match the tick tock of the clock. "You can do this.."

With that, he unlocked the tablet and began reading about the past 16 years of his life.

* * *

"You know full well that Barton and I hate you two being left alone.." Tony sighed as he entered the living area, still nursing the bruise forming on the back of his head from the hit Pepper gave him when he said no to her using his tablet.

Pepper and Natasha were on the sofa in the main area together. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, but stopped when Tony entered. Well, it had been the first time in who knows how long he's been out of his lab, so he couldn't blame them! But he needed his device back!

It was the only one with Clint's medical history stored on it. A pretty very important thing to have when messing with the powers he was!

"Oh don't be a baby." Natasha waved him off with a sigh. He moved to sit on the arm of the sofa next to Pepper. "All I'm doing is teaching her the thirty most painful castration methods."

"Funny." He sighed, rolling his eyes at her joke before looking to his girlfriend. "Need that tablet, sweetie."

A pause and a glance at Natasha by Pepper was all he needed to let him know something was up.

"Did.. Did she shoot it or something?" He asked with a frown.

Wouldn't be the first time it happened!

When Clint asked for more target sheets one day, it was while Tony was pretty damn busy. So, Stark turned around and snapped 'Get them off the tablet yourself, idiot!' at him. He meant he could print some off and make up the targets, but Clint didn't appreciate the idiot comment. So, when Tony went to the range per Barton's request, he walked in on the two assassins sending bullet after bullet into the tablet, the fading image showing the target print out on screen.

"Clint has it." Pepper replied with a shake of her head.

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow. "He's not shooting yet."

Another pause.

What would he need a tablet for? What would he need Tony's for is the real question actually! Pepper had plenty lying around that he could use.

Something on it.

What was on it?

Encrypted project files. No way current Clint Barton would be able to break those. JARVIS' matrix. There was nothing the archer could do with that other than change some files so the AI wouldn't be able to tell them where he was 24/7..

Files..

"Well.." Natasha started softly, if Tony knew her better he'd pick up the nervousness in her voice.

Files.

"You didn't.." He whispered with a shake of his head.

All Avengers' files.

All Clint's files.

All full and un-censored.

"He asked." Natasha shrugged and Pepper nodded in confirmation.

"Banner and I told you guys how dangerous this could be for him!" Tony sighed, voice loud though as he rubbed his forehead. How could they be so stupid? "That's 16 years of killings and worse he's reading! You remember how Barnes reacted!? I still have people to compensate for that rampage!"

"He's not Barnes!" Natasha growled as she stood, squaring up to Tony who had stood a moment before her.

Their raised voices must have gained the attention of the others because he could see all their heads poking in the doorway behind Natasha.

Bucky was looking pretty pissed, more than likely upset at Tony for the comment. Thor was holding both the super soldiers back. All were sanding there except for one.

"Where is he?" Tony asked Natasha with a scowl. An ever growing protective streak was in Tony since the accident, and this little incident was just setting it off even more.

But she just crossed her arms in the ever defiant Black Widow way.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had his own way of finding out things! "JARVIS?"

"Agent Barton isn't appearing on any of my scans, sir." With each word from the AI, Natasha's smirk grew. She knew where he was.

He knew she knew.

And the smirk being so sarcastic meant that she knew he knew she knew!

"He doesn't want company." She shrugged. "So I'm not doing to divulge information like that."

"If something happens to him.." Tony started through a growl. He snapped his head towards the door when it was a different voice interrupting.

"He's stronger than you think." Bucky stepped forward as he spoke. "You're treating him like a child, tip-toeing around him, and he knows it. Stop treating him like he's about to fall apart at the slightest nudge."

"I'm not!" Tony defended with a shake of his head. "I seem to be the only one of us concerned with getting him back!"

"Tony." Pepper's warning voice was on, but he just sent her a glare.

"Don't 'Tony' me! All of you have been protecting him, putting him in a bubble, going on like life is normal!" He snapped. His attention wandered around everyone in the room, because in his mind they were all at fault. "Guess what though; life isn't normal! And I seem to be the only one who realises that the guy here right now isn't Clint! I don't know who it is, but it's not our Hawkeye!"

He knew all of them were probably about to speak, about to tell him off, but he wasn't up for hearing their bullshit so he stormed past them all and out of the room before they had a chance to.

They were doing nothing to help Barton in the sense that really matters. Each and every day the Clint Barton they knew, loved, trusted, the Clint Barton they called theirs was slipping further and further away from them. And they were acting like it was perfectly fine.

"Sir, video feeds show Agent Bar-"

"That's not Agent Barton!" Tony snapped, pausing in the hallway regardless to pull up the video feed and see where Clint went off to. "I don't even know if we can call him Mr. Barton! I mean, how hold was he when he actually left the circus!?"

"It was 1999, sir.. So he was-"

"Rhetorical question, J.." He shouldn't be getting annoyed with JARVIS. He was just trying to help. But right now Tony's mood had him annoyed with everyone, including artificial intelligences.

JARVIS took the hint though and shut up while Tony accessed the video feed. He watched as Clint sprinted from his room and through the halls. His head was down the entire time, so archer must have been running on auto pilot. He knew showing Clint the full file was a mistake!

He glanced down the hall when the feed ended, eyes landing on the door the Clint in the video vanished through. That was a fire escape, leading up towards the roof for emergency evac.

Curious, he followed the steps taken by the archer a time stamped 27 minutes ago.

1999 Clint was different. He seemed kind, gentle, too innocent to be ruined by life as a SHIELD agent. Tony obviously knew nothing about the guy. To him, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff were always these kick ass agents who could kill someone with a pinky finger and make it look like an accident. He was convinced they were just that way since birth, that he came out of the womb dressed in purple leather and shooting arrows at the doctors.

Unrealistic, of course, but that was always his perception of the teams archer.

The sight greeting him on the rooftop shattered that illusion completely though. The sight made him question the path he was forging, the plans he had to get the archer they knew back.

The sight of Clint Barton, whatever year he was trapped in, hunched on the side of the roof - with shaking shoulders giving away the fact that his emotions had gotten the better of him - made Tony Stark completely and totally question his ideas for the first time in his life.

"Bit chilly." Tony said loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to not startle the Hawk entirely. Though Clint did jump a little at the voice. "Why not come inside and warm up?" A shrug finished his sentence.

No response from Clint. Tony was getting used to that though.

"Or maybe I could bring you a jacket or blan-"

"Thanks, Mr. Stark.." Clint's voice sounded dead. It scared Tony way too much.

The archer still hadn't looked his way yet, and it had Tony slowly advancing.

"But I'm fine.."

"Well that's a load of horse-shit." Tony frowned. He made sure Clint could see that it was him before carefully sitting on the edge next to him.

Some of that assassin instinct was still there and Tony really didn't feel like being thrown from his building today!

He ignored the quick wipe of the eyes and the tear stains on the archers side of the roof edge. Instead, Tony zoned in on the pad held in Clint's hands.

A video from one of Hawkeye's numerous missions was silently playing.

He stayed quiet. He remained still and silent by Clint's side while the archer watched mission after mission, arrow after arrow being released into the targets too evil to remain on this earth.

The only time Tony moved was to look at Clint when a rouge tear leaked onto the screen.

He looked broken beyond repair, tired, fed up eyes crying openly for the first time Tony could recall.

"Clint.."

"I don't think you can even begin to justify this in my mind.." He cut Tony off with a shake of his head. Hid hand was slightly shaking, metal one solid and strong though as it held onto the pad. "These go all the way back to 2001.."

"I think SHIELD only picked you up in 2000.." Tony shrugged, not knowing how to help Clint right now. And it killed him more than anything else. "So, yes, your first mission probably would have been a year later.."

"Why..?" Clint whispered. It seemed to be more to himself than to Tony though. "I just.."

His words trailed off, more tears joined the others on the pad in the silence. Tony didn't look at Clint anymore, he couldn't look at him. The usually strong and lively archer was hurting worse than any injury could ever inflict and Tony had absolutely no way of helping. He'd break down himself if he looked to Clint.

"I can't answer that." Tony said quietly when the silence got too much. Clint just started another video, this one including Natasha who was looking a little worse for wear on Clint's shoulder as he shot. "I don't even think Natasha or Fury can. None of us know why you did it.."

"Then who the hell does?" Clint cut Tony's next words off with a growl, his hand getting tighter on the pad.

Tony looked to him this time, but the sight wasn't an anger filled face like he was expecting. Fear was in Clint's eyes. He just learned all his kills in the past 16 years in the space of less than an hour, Tony couldn't blame the guy for being afraid.

"All you guys have all this useless information about me! I like pizza, I can drink ten whole pots of coffee in a day and still complain of being tired, I play pranks, I can beat Natasha at poker and Thor at Mario Kart; but none of you can tell me anything useful and it's starting to piss me off!"

"Clint, I don-"

"You don't know what this is like!" Clint snapped properly this time, his voice rising more and more with each word. But the tears increased with each word too. He was losing it, he was flipping out, he was snapping, and Tony was expecting it sooner or later. "None of you do! 16 years of my life are gone, apparently 16 years spent killing people but no one can tell me why!"

"Because you had to." Tony said quickly, both hands gripping the archers shoulders to try ground him a little. "You had to. Those people were scum, Clint. They were doing horrible things that would have your stomach turning."

"But that's no reason to-"

"That's every reason to!" Tony cut Clint's angry yells off with some of his own, his hands tightening. "Clint, superheroes aren't all capes and suits, they aren't flying around and saving people from falling cars. They're people who risk their lives for the lives of others, they're the people who put their world on the line to save the world as a whole. Heroes are people who follow good, they're people who don't question their actions because they know deep down they've done right by ridding the world of wrong! You've saved way more people than you've taken out! You took Natasha out of a hell hole, you made a different call and saved her life. You refused to take a shot on Thor while he was at his lowest point! You risked your life to save a child, one child, while we were clearing an entire city. You refused to leave the site of a bomb attack for three whole days just incase there were survivors left there. You're the greatest marksman in the world, the greatest spy SHIELD has ever seen, you're the greatest hero out there, Clint, so don't you dare think that these actions were anything other than heroic."

Silence.

He let his words hang there. He let Clint's gaze hold his own, he refused to move his hands, refused to move a muscle, he didn't even blink as shock settled onto the archers face.

He meant every word though. Clint was the most heroic of the lot of them. And he'd be damned if he let the guy question that fact! Because it wasn't an opinion; it was a cold hard fact that just never could be disputed.

Eventually, Clint sighed, and his whole body deflated with the action. Tony let his hands leave the archer when his shoulders sagged, reaching down to take the pad from his hands then since they began to open and he didn't want the device with so much work on it falling to it's doom. His head bowed, and Tony just left him to his thoughts. He said everything he could to make him feel better.

"Tony.." His voice was so quiet that Stark's ears struggled to pick the word up, but the night air carried it over. "Your Clint Barton.. Is he the kind worth saving..?"

Something in Tony's chest ripped in two. How much was Clint struggling with all of this? Did he want to get his memories back or was he just hoping to so he'd understand his place in this world.

"He's the kind worth every bit of effort I have in me." He replied softly, his hands fiddling with the tablet to find the file he needed. "The Clint we know is probably the greatest man I've ever met. The Clint we know lost his arm saving my life.."

He let those words hang as he pulled up the file, knowing full well that Clint was watching him now. With what expression, he was scared to find out.

"That's what you meant that night.." He breathed out, but Tony figured it wasn't meant for his ears. So he ignored it and put the new information into the program he was running on the serum.

They let the silence hang, the only sound disturbing them being the busy city life below them. Daring a glance at the archer let Tony know that he was staring out at the New York scenery. He wondered if Clint had a chance to try catch up with any events from the past 16 years, any of the attacks, the wars, the problems the country faced. He wondered just how much Clint knew, or how much was all still new and would hurt him. He hadn't set foot out of the tower much besides doctors and physio. He wasn't seeing the world, wasn't living, he was just existing.

"If there was a way.." Tony started softly, letting the words trail to let Clint make up his mind. He only spoke after the tablet beeped, a small smile forming since the tests were successful.

"If there was a way.." Clint repeated quietly, mulling the words over for a few before continuing. "I'd take it.."

"Really?" Tony asked with an eyebrow raised. He wondered for the longest time if Clint would actually accept his help or if he'd be happy enough to live in his world as was now.

"I think I have a good life.." He whispered with the slightest of smiles. His gaze was still on the streets of New York. Tony found himself wondering - not for the first time - just how far and how clearly those hawkeyes could see. "I mightn't like what I've done.. I actually hate what the Clint you know has done. But I want to remember it. I want to remember you, I want to remember the rest of the team. I want to be able to join in the joke, remember the good times you talk about. I want it all back.."

"It's risky.." Tony said after a moment or two, leaving Clint enough time to back out if he wanted to. "Seriously so."

"I trust you." Clint smiled, turning to look Tony in the eye. There was the proper Clint there, the Clint he knew, they all knew, the Clint that would reassure them through the bad times, when one of them would be hurt beyond comprehension, and he'd smile that smile that just let them all know it would be ok. "If you think it'll work, then I trust you 100 percent."

 _He trusts you 100 percent.._

 _How much do you trust you..?_

* * *

The device looked terrifying.

And, somehow, Tony wanted him to get into the thing.

Was this guy insane!?

"One more time..?" Clint asked with a slight hitch in his voice, staring the metal chamber down as Tony took off the metal arm he had become used to having.

"Clint Barton scared?" Tony laughed a little, though Clint had learned that was the billionaires teasing laugh and it wasn't to be taken to heart.

From the roof, they had made their way down to Tony's lab. Stark had been chatting about the solution that he had come up with, but Clint's mind was in a little bit of information overload from everything today so all he really picked up on was that Tony had faced this stuff before and knew that it worked.

This chamber though, that's literally all Clint could explain it as! It looked like some kind of medieval torture device dragged up from the pits of hell! The door was open on it so he could see inside. There was a bed of sorts with straps that would most likely be keeping him in place. Little needles lined the side and it really didn't look the nicest!

"That little side effect of Extremis I mentioned.." Tony started quietly as he took the metal arm over to the table. "This will mean that.."

"That I won't blow up the whole building if I do go bang.." Clint finished for him.

"I'm pretty sure I've fixed that problem!" Tony said quickly, shaking his head just as quick. "Honestly Clint, I wouldn't even think of putting this stuff in you if I didn't try fix it. I just don't know how much I trust my judgement since it was that same judgement that put us in this situation.."

Tony was the reason Clint lost his arm.

Out of all the information he's received today, all the mind blowing revelations, all the events in his life shown to him that most people wouldn't even dream of; that was the one and only fact that just didn't sit right with him. Yet, Tony seemed convinced it was true.

"So, this thing?" Clint asked with a slight chuckle, giving the contraption a little kick like testing a car tyre. He wanted to pull Tony out of his bad thoughts.

"Back from the World War 2 days." Tony smiled. He moved over to some control panels to get things started up. "Good ol' Cap's chamber, believe it or not. My dad had it in storage since then incase they ever wanted to make any more super soldiers. Seems like the appropriate thing to use!"

"If I get muscles like him, then I'm happy!" He grinned, carefully stepping into the machine. He raised an eyebrow when he caught Tony smiling oddly at him. It happened a little now and then, he'd see it on a few of their faces. Stark just shook his head of whatever he was thinking and went to strap Clint in.

He reminded Tony of new Clint..

That was the smile..

That's the smile the others keep giving him. The moments when snippets of who he was to them would surface earned that smile.

All the more reason to bring his memories back.

2015 Clint is seriously missed, and he wanted to give these people their friend back.

"If it gets too much, let me know.." Tony said softly when the last strap was in place. Clint was starting to get a little panicky, but he was trying to keep that to himself. "I'll stop it right away.."

"Don't worry." He smiled, hating how his voice came out a little too shaky for his liking. He held out his hand with a slight grin when Tony raised an eyebrow to let him know it was all good. "We got this."

A nod and a handshake later, Tony was back over by the controls and the door was slowly closing over Clint.

The world fell silent, and for some reason Clint wondered if he should have taken out his aids for this. Silly, right? He was facing some magic serum that would regrow his arm, regain his memories, and possibly blow him up, and all he was worried about was he hearing aids.

There was a mechanical sound and it all got a little too real for Clint.

This was happening.

He was being experimented on all in the hopes that he'd get his memories back, get his arm back, get the last 16 years of his life back.

He shut his eyes tightly as he began to feel the first pricks of the needles in his arm and back of the neck, hoping for the millionth time that he'd wake from this nightmare.

But the nightmare just got worse.

* * *

The screams were horrifying.

He had never heard such sounds from the archer before, from anyone before! But he kept pushing, because he knew that's what Clint would want. Unless Clint specifically said so, he wouldn't stop pushing.

He increased the power being supplied to the pod, his brow sweating with concentration. Tony didn't know it would require so much, he didn't know if it would hold up. Already, the lights in the lab were gone, no doubt the rest of the tower and judging by the power levels half of New York aswell.

But he didn't care.

He had a chance of helping Clint get better and he'd be damned if he didn't take it!

"What on earth is going on!?" He looked to the door at the booming voice and mentally cursed his luck. He was only 40% through the process, he was hoping he'd get a little closer to finishing before the others found out!

Seems like the power out also cancelled his sound proofing!

"Is that our archer in there making those sounds!?" Thor continued without even letting Tony answer. The Asgardian advanced on Tony with a look he was sure he only reserved for the 'most foul and evil of adversaries' in battle.

47%.

Clint's screams grew desperate.

Tony couldn't stop now.

"I'm fixing this mess!" Tony yelled back, not to be confrontational or start anything, but because the sound of Clint was too loud and he had to raise his voice over it. "This is the best way I could think of!"

53%.

"Is that..?" He looked from Thor to the doorway at the new voice, doubly cursing his luck. The whole team was there now, all looking ready to kill him for those screams coming from Clint. All except the owner of the voice, who was looking at the familiar device in horror.

"Steve, it's gotta be done." Tony said with a shake of his head, his hands not pausing in their work of regulating the serum he was injecting into his friend.

62%, and Clint started begging.

"Shut the damn thing down, Stark!" Natasha yelled as she rushed past the billionaire and to the chamber. She tried look into the little port hole at the front, but Tony doubted she could see anything. She was shouting, but the sound couldn't reach Tony with the other noises in the room.

"Are you seriously putting that damn super soldier serum in him!?" Bucky asked from next to Steve. The whole team were entering the lab, glancing from Tony to the pod every now and then. "It'll kill him! Even the perfect serum nearly killed us two!"

"Well.." Tony started. But he was cut off by Bruce who was over by one of the screens.

"Extremis?" Bruce asked in shock. Tony could safely say that through all their crazy ideas together Banner had never given him such a horrified expression before. "You're really putting that time bomb into him!?"

"It's the only thing that I know will help!" Tony defended as he stared down the doctor. "You got another idea, I'd love to hear it!"

78%.

Whimpers cut through the screams every now and then.

"What's Extremis?" Steve asked in confusion, Thor's expression mimicking. Bucky looking pissed told Tony that he knew all about it, and when the soldiers and Natasha's guns were trained on Stark's head, he knew they both knew everything about it.

85%. It was increasing too fast. Tony didn't know why, but if he aborted now, he had no idea what would happen.

"Developed a few years ago by AIM." Just that one sentence from Natasha had the confused pair tensing. Anything to do with AIM or Hydra was a serious no no around here! "Regrowth and regeneration properties, extremely sensitive, 1 out of 5 test subjects don't survive."

"Increases speed, strength, almost unlimited stamina to match." Bucky continued. "Healing that could rival yours and mine, Steve. And Rhodes swears it made one guy breathe fire."

"Everyone just skimming past the fact that it can give Clint his arm and memories back!?" Tony asked in exasperation, glancing at the pod to see how it was doing. Natasha was still standing protectively by it, gun still trained on his head. "It'll bring Clint back!"

"But at what cost?" Thor asked with a shake of his head. "How much of our friend will be left through all those side effects?"

89%. Screams were getting weaker. Alarms were flashing up on the screen. But Tony didn't see them until it was too late since his attention was taken.

"You're playing god!" Steve shook his head, getting too close for comfort to Tony. He was sure the good Captain was about to snap his neck. "Did you learn nothing from Ultron!? You can't do this stuff!"

"Ultron was a mistake, one I admit!" Tony yelled back. Steve had his collar gripped in both hands now, but Tony wouldn't let his leave the controls. "I thought this through, spent a month perfecting it! I wouldn't put Clint through this if I wasn't sure it would work! He trusts me and agreed to it!"

"You're not sure it will work!" Bucky yelled by his side, gun resting against his temple now. "It's why he's in that pod, incase he goes into shock and overheats and blows the place up! Shut it down!"

He was yelling, but he didn't need to be.

Their voices were being heard.

There was no screams anymore. No whimpers. No pleads or begs.

Tony's eyes widened slightly as he glanced at the control screen.

The progress bar showing 100% was barely visible under all the warnings. Heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, all flashing on screen as they all got to dangerous and unsafe levels. How had he missed that!? Damn team may have doomed Clint!

"Clint.." He breathed out, hitting the emergency stop button to open the capsule.

The others must have sensed his worry, because Steve dropped his collar and ran over to the now open pod with the rest of the team. Tony just stayed looking gob-smacked at the screen, where flat lines met all his readings.

There were rushed and panicked voices from over where Clint was. Daring a glance, he could just make out the sweating face of the archer above them all as they tried unstrap him. His head was slumped to the side, completely dead to the world.

No.. He couldn't be dead..

He slumped to the floor and let out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair as the team worked to get Clint out.

Bruce spared a look back at him, one he's seen only once before, and that told him all he needed to know.

Damn..


	7. Chapter 7

OK! NEXT CHAPTER UP EARLY CAUSE COLLEGE IS STARTING AGAIN AND I MIGHTN'T BE AS ACTIVE!

But procrastination will definitely mean I'll probably be more active :P

PLEASE REVIEW! CAUSE I WANNA KNOW HOW I DID AT THIS UNGODLY HOUR OF THE NIGHT!

REVIEWERS! SEE, IF YOU REVIEW, YOU GET YOUR NAME HERE! :D

Niom Lamboise; Well.. Enjoy this! :P Glad you enjoyed the last one!

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; I fell like he says that at least 30 times a day.. Glad you liked it, if that means you liked it! :D

ELOSHAZZY; Glad you're liking it so much! Nice simple chapter now, nice little bit of Clint being, well, Clint I think! I just wanted him to have complete faith in the team as a whole in the last chapter, because I think that's something that kinda transcends past memories and is just something that becomes engrained in them all after a while. Yeah, I get poetic at this hour! :P Hope you enjoy this! :)

Amy. d. fuller. 9; Smart cookie! Pretty much why I had them flat lined, that and I kinda thought that they'd be a little messed up by the serum and wanted to give Tony a scare! He didn't talk it over with the team cause how much do you think the team would have killed him for even suggesting it? :P New Clint I like writing! I have him properly in the next chapter, this is just a little one, and I have to say I really like writing him so I hope y'all enjoy him! Thanks for the review and I hope you enjoy this one :)

DISCLAIMER! STILL DON'T OWN!

* * *

He had to be dead, right?

That was the only explanation for this. That was the only reason that was swimming around his mind. That something had finally managed to kill him and that's why he felt this way. Or maybe, why he didn't feel this way.

Because he didn't feel anything. Completely and totally numb.

No, numb wasn't the word for it. He could feel things, yeah. He could feel the itchy sheets under his hands and arms, he could feel the soft mattress supporting his back and the light blanket covering his legs. When he nuzzled the pillow, he could feel the softness of it giving his head some much needed comfort.

But those were never the things he would usually feel. He would usually feel things alot worse when he woke in the mornings.

Years as an assassin and an agent took it's toll on Clint Barton's body. The bones healed, the cuts scarred, the concussions faded away, and the main pain would always leave. But that didn't mean it didn't leave an impact. He'd usually be woken by the creak in his neck that - no matter how comfortable a pillow was - would flare up at night time from lack of use. His middle back would attack when he'd shift in the bed when coming into consciousness. When rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his wrist would complain from the time he tried shooting his bow while still in a cast after a reconstruction surgery. When he'd stand, the metal bar in his leg would make it's presence known, as if he'd ever forget that he needed that little bit of foreign material to keep his leg together.

But there was nothing.

There was no pain, there was no grogginess or fog letting him know that the reason for that may have been some awfully strong pain relief, there was nothing. He couldn't even feel the comfortable calloused pain that his fingers held. Nothing.

And that's how he knew he was dead. Because there's absolutely no other explanation for how his body could be at such peace right now.

But, he could open his eyes. Albeit, they were reluctant at first. But he soon managed it and was greeted with a slowly spinning ceiling fan. That was on request of just a little few when Tony asked him what he wanted in his room. He always had one in his room as a kid, it was always on because the sound of it would drown out the more horrible sounds coming from through the house, so it was comfort thing for him now. That, and, in SHIELD the ceilings were the same throughout the base. He could never tell when he woke if he was in his own room or the med bay, so waking to find a ceiling fan let him know that he was safe and everything was ok.

So, why did he feel so groggy?

What happened last night?

There was a mission yesterday, what was it for? He couldn't recall right now, but if it was a successful one that would usually mean Thor wanted some celebrations, which would lead to drink, which would lead to Clint trying to out drink an Asgardian, two super-soldiers, and a Russian with ridiculous tolerances for alcohol. Tony was different, he just sat back and drank at his own pace so he never had to out drink the billionaire. But, if that happened, then he more than likely passed out again and was just put to bed!

But, no hangover..

He seriously needed to find someone..

He sighed to himself and carefully pushed himself up to sit at the side of the bed, his hand instinctively going to rub the back of his neck even though there was no kink there right now. It was a habit that years of mornings got him into.

Something felt weird.

His body didn't feel right. It didn't feel like it was his own. He let his hands fall into his lap and moved his fingers a little, testing them out, trying to see if he was in control of them or not. He was, of course. They would listen to him, would respond. The left index would touch the right index and vice versa when he wanted them to. He looked to his feet, and his toes would respond aswell. If something was wrong with the brain or spine - the usual culprits in such a feeling as Clint was having - then the fingers and toes would be the first to stop responding.

This wasn't that.

This just felt weird, like he was in control but he wasn't at the same time. Like he knew what he was doing, but he didn't know how he was doing it or why.

Standing made it worse. His feet moved of their own accord, they felt lighter but his steps sounded heavier.

"I swear, if Tony spiked me again last night.." He growled to himself as he made his way to his bathroom. He wouldn't put it past the guy! Last time the billionaire spiked Clint, the video of him dancing to Barbie Girl and doing a strip tease was the most watched on Youtube for nearly five months!

He went wide eyed when he gripped the door knob to the bathroom and the plastic cracked beneath his touch. He didn't release it, just stared at the little fractures running through the piece from as many angles as he possibly could.

"What..?" He whispered to himself, eyebrow raising a little. "How..?"

Must be getting old.. He'd have to ask Tony to replace it as soon as he got out of the room!

He let go of the little orb and instead used the lightest touch his finger tips could manage to open the door. He kicked the door closed behind him like he did every morning, jumping from fright when the door slammed loudly. He mustn't know his own strength today..

He stared at the door for a moment, trying to make sense of everything in his mind. His body didn't feel like his own, he broke the handle, a little nudge nearly broke the door.. What's going on..?

"Spiked." He nodded with a shaky sigh. That had to be it.

He turned to the sink and reached out a shaky hand to the tap, a bit of cold water should help bring him out of whatever haze he was it!

The tap snapped.

The tap just snapped clean off, sending a spray of water all over the place and leaving a nice cut on his hand.

The tap snapped, and so did he.

Because when he looked at the gash on his palm to see how bad it was, something definitely wasn't right.

It was healing.

The gash was healing right infront of his eyes, an orange glow spreading through his hand and up his arm as it happened.

This wasn't right.

"Guys!" He yelled, stumbling backwards in shock. He lost his footing, the water soaking the floor making moving too difficult to stay upright. So, he fell on his ass, still staring at the hand that had just somehow managed to heal itself as he backed himself up against the wall. "Nat! Cap! Anyone!"

This just wasn't right!

Something was in him, something was making him feel this way and making it so he could just somehow heal himself. He didn't know what, but it was magic, and magic meant either monsters or gods, both of which had him spiralling into a panic attack.

This couldn't be happening to him. Not again. He couldn't be caught up in magic, couldn't deal with mind control or something inside him that he didn't ask for. He couldn't be put through this torment again, not after New York, not after Loki.

"Hey hey, look at me." Her voice soon broke through to him, strong as ever.

He had his hands over his ears and his eyes screwed shut as he sat on the floor, wanting to block the world away and just leave him with his thoughts. How did he hear her? He struggled with that on a normal day. His aids must be extra sensitive today! But, then again, his hands couldn't feel them..

"Clint.. Come on, come back to me."

He let out a slight whimper and slowly opened his eyes, meeting her worried green ones as soon as he could see right. She was hunched down infront of him, her hands resting gently on his knees that were pulled up close to his chest. He didn't know how long she was trying to coax him around, or how long he had been like this, but the worry on Natasha's face told him it was a little while.

"Tash.." He croaked out, his shaking hands falling over hers. "What's going on with me..?"

"That's a long story, Clint." She whispered back. There was something in her voice, a tightness, and the look she was giving him had changed. What the hell happened to him? The last time he saw her that way was when he was captured for over three months and the entire agency thought him dead. The look he was getting was the same one he received when herself and the strike team happened to find him in the chambers of one of the AIM bases they were raiding, the look was him coming back from the dead.

Dead.

He thought he was dead earlier. He was convinced of it. Was he actually dead? Were they all dead? What the hell was happening..

Mission..

Doom..

Doom missions never ended well..

"Come on.." She said softly. She moved to stand properly before she placed her hands under his arm pit and helped him to his feet. It was only when she moved that he noticed Tony and Steve in the doorway whispering to each other, daring a glance his way every now and then. "Get back to bed and we'll talk.."

He didn't object. Usually she'd just tell him it's all fine, usually she'd let him stay where he was and settle, usually she wouldn't lead him by the arm back to the bed. Usually Steve and Tony wouldn't be looking at him like he had ten heads, usually there wouldn't be this tense feeling in the room. Something happened, so all usual circumstances and usual actions were thrown out the window right now.

She waited until he was against the headboard before sitting next to him, taking his right hand in both of hers and giving it a soft squeeze. He didn't miss the hitch in her breath when he squeezed back, but also didn't call her up on it.

"Last thing you remember..?" She whispered after a silence had fallen upon them. He knew her thinking face, and through that time she was trying to find the right words to say.

"I don't know.." He sighed, running his free hand through his hair as he thought. Steve and Tony had risked coming into the room, and he noticed now that Banner and Barnes were there too.

Last thing he remembered. Thinking about it seemed to give him a bit of a headache.

A mission brief, all of them, in the room. Natasha and Clint were letting them know about Doom. They finished that, they suited up, and they went to the castle. His memories get hazy and start giving him a migraine somewhere after that.

"I get hit right out of the jet or something?" He asked through a slight groan, rubbing at his temples to get rid of the headache. "Don't remember past landing at the damn castle.."

"But you remember the castle?" She pushed. Her tone made him look at her, because it was just pure shock. Of course he'd remember it! Why wouldn't he? He nodded anyway, and she responded by looking to Tony with an odd smile. "Remembers the castle.."

"Nothing else?" Stark asked with an eyebrow raised. Clint shook his head. "Really.."

"So what's that mean?" Steve asked Tony with a slight frown. That confused Clint.

"Bruce?" Tony shrugged, looking to said man who was staring at Clint in amazement.

"I don't know." Banner replied after a moment. "His old ones just reformed and picked up where they left off?"

Old what did what now..?

"Guys.." Clint said with a confused smile, earning the attention of all in the room. "I'd kinda like to be in the loop a little here.."

"Something a little difficult to tell." Bucky said from the corner. Clint had honestly forgotten the man was there. "Don't know if it's something we can just blurt out."

This had him more than curious.

"Guys.. Just give me a few minutes with him." Natasha sighed. No one objected and all left the room without another word.

"Nat..?" He asked cautiously. She wasn't looking at him, was just staring at their joined hands as she mulled over her thoughts. "Come on.. You've told me some pretty mad stuff over the years, I think I can take it."

She smiled a little to herself, that was his goal. He didn't like this mood that seemed to be hanging around the team, this weird feeling that followed them. He wanted to make sure everything was ok, make sure they were all ok, because he loved his team mates and didn't want them feeling bad!

"Little Hawk, where do I start..?" She sighed out, running a hand through her hair before finally lying eyes on him.

The look held behind those green marvels was enough to let him know he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

* * *

He couldn't figure out if this was worse than being dead.

How messed up is that? He was here, and he should be thankful for that by the sounds of things. But he didn't know if he wanted to be here with the information he was just given.

He was up against the headboard in the same position since Natasha left him to his thoughts over two hours ago. His attention was just focused on his right hand, being held limply in his lap. It shouldn't be there, it wasn't natural. This whole situation was just fucked up and he didn't know how to handle all the information he was just given.

He had lost this arm.

The arm that looked completely fine and healthy wasn't his. Not really his. It was something his body grew with the help of some magic drug Stark made in his lab.

He lost his arm, lost his memories, lost everything. Stark whipped up possibly the worst thing Clint and Natasha ever looked into in SHIELD and put it into Clint. That's why all his old injuries were healed, why his hearing was perfect, why he could think so sharply and why he broke everything he touched. He wasn't Clint anymore. He was some supped up version of Clint and he didn't like it.

He'd damn well have to have no memory of all of Stark's projects to agree to something so stupid!

But it worked.

That's all he had to keep telling himself. Sure, Stark had some stupid ideas from time to time, and he can't say they're exactly best friends. But from what Natasha told him it seemed that Tony went to hell and back to try find a solution for the problem Clint faced.

He couldn't remember exactly how he lost the arm, and that was pissing him off more than anything. Natasha said it was Victor, that he ambushed himself and Tony. And that made sense, Doom had been trying to take one or both of Strike Team Delta out for years, and taking the archers arm was probably the best way to do it. But he couldn't remember and he seriously wanted to!

He couldn't remember the past few months. Four months, Natasha tells him. Three actually with them, his mind all the way back in 1999, which confused him more than anything. Why his memories would revert back to that horrible time in his life he couldn't tell. One out of it in this bed after Stark did that little experiment on him.

The door opened, and he didn't have to look up to know who was there. He seemed to just sense them.

"You didn't tell any of the others about it.." Clint said quietly, directing his comment to the one man he had so many questions for right now.

"I needed to help you, Clint.. They would have stopped me." Stark replied in his usual tone, like it was the most obvious reason in the world.

"Would've been the right thing to do." Clint scoffed, looking to the window just so he wouldn't have to look at Tony. "You can't play God, Tony."

"Hey, you agreed to it!" Tony defended, but soon shut up when Steve cut him off.

"This isn't the time for arguing." Steve said sternly. The weight of the bed shifting let Clint know that the Captain sat at the end of it. "I know it's a bit of shock, Clint. But Tony's right; you did agree. And it got you back."

"It's not natural." He sighed as he shook his head, finally looking down to Steve. "It doesn't feel right.."

"Just have to get used to it." Steve smiled. If he was ok with it, then maybe it was something Clint should just learn to accept. "I don't know what having an arm regrown feels like.. But I definitely know the feeling of having your body changed so much. It gets easier."

"I know this stuff." Clint sighed, daring a look at Tony who just looked awkward standing against the wall. "Natasha and I were placed on recon when it first showed up.. Years before you went and made the whole thing public. Tony, how could you put this in me?"

"It's not the same as AIM's. Don't you think I know better than to do something that stupid?"

Clint scoffed as an answer. He doesn't know better.

"Clint." Steve said softly, drawing his attention back to the Captain. "Listen, it's done. We can either accept it or keep bickering about it."

He kind of wanted to keep bickering.. But that would solve nothing.

"I'm not saying you have to forgive Tony.." Good! "But we're here to help you. Bucky and I are about to go training. Why not join and see what that new arm of yours can do?"

Now that he had no problem with!

"Thanks Cap." Clint smiled. He gave a little nod and moved to stand up. "Think that might be just what I need.."

* * *

"It takes some time, Clint."

"But it shouldn't.. How can I be Hawkeye if I can't shoot?"

"Hey, listen! It. Takes. Time. You have a whole new arm to train up, takes time!"

He hated how Steve was always right..

The problem with a bow and arrow is that the majority of learning the skill of archery is training your muscles to react to the task. Training them to apply the right amount of pressure, to draw the string back to the right angle and tension to get the desired distance. It's all about tricking your muscles into remembering the work they had to do so that you can focus all your attention on the target that needed the arrow in it.

Now, he had to do that all over again.

The only problem is he isn't as patient as he was when he was kid!

He was an hour at it now while Bucky and Steve were sparring on the mats to his right. He was hitting the target board at least, which was a miracle if he was in a right enough state of mind to realise it, but he just wanted to be able to hit that damn little red mark and prove that he could!

Draw it back, breathe in, aim, breathe out, release, and..

"Fucking damn piece of shit!" He yelled as the arrow went soaring over the target completely. This wasn't good! "How the fuck can I do this shit if I can't even hit the god damn board with this piece of shit!"

In his anger - completely uncalled for he'd later realise - he grasped the bow in both hands and snapped the piece clean in half. He threw the pieces and the arrows as far down the range as he could before stamping his way over to get some water from the bench.

Eyes were on him. He could feel them burning into the back of his skull and it caused him to take pause with the bottle to his lips. Slowly, he turned with an eyebrow raised, Bucky and Steve's confused faces greeting him.

"So we have strength, healing, ridiculous metabolism since he didn't need food after a month out.." Bucky started after a moment of an awkward stare down. This is why they wanted him training.. To test him.. Study him..

"And quite the temper." Steve added with a nod, his arms folded across his chest.

Clint took a deep breath and held it for a moment, willing his anger away so he wouldn't get those looks off the soldiers again.

"Ok.." He sighed out as he released the breath, giving as sincere a smile as he could to the pair. "I'm sorry.. Got a little carried away.."

The anger was still there.

That wasn't good.

It was still simmering and slowly building once again. At nothing, at some arrows not hitting their mark. That wouldn't usually get such a reaction.

But he couldn't let it show, because he bet everything on the fact that this was all being fed back to the rest of the team.

"It's alright, it's a shock." Steve smiled. He walked over to the wall and hit it to reveal the weapons stall behind it. Seems his own little personal trainers were prepared!

"Guns are usually easier to start with." Bucky said casually, as Steve got out a hand gun from the stall Barnes went to replace the target with one more suited to bullets than arrows.

"I work better with my bow." He pouted, stepping up the the mark regardless though. "I love guns, but they're not as reliable as my bow is."

"You work just as well with guns from what I recall." Steve smiled, offering Clint the weapon when close enough. "You'll be fine."

"As a sharpshooter, I should work with my best choice.." He frowned, looking to Bucky because as a sniper he knew exactly what Clint was talking about. "How can I be the teams spotter if I can't reliably shoot."

"Well, you have me too now." Bucky shrugged. Clint raised an eyebrow to tell him to go on, but Steve's voice piped up instead.

"He's taken a while off missions to help us out." Steve smiled. "With the two of you there, it'll be perfectly fine to have your bow missing for a while."

Clint let out a shaky sigh and nodded before turning his attention to the target at the end of the range.

He wanted to snap.

He wanted to shout and yell and just beat the shit out of everything and everyone until he felt right again.

This serum was fucking with him already, and it was only the first day.

He gripped the weapon in the familiar way, the sensation of the cool metal in his palms calming him more than anything else. He rose it and aimed at the target, hoping this would be better than that damn bow.

This was going to be a long road of things to get used to..

He couldn't tell yet if this was a change he was going to like or one he was going to regret for the rest of his life.

Right now, he just trusted that everything would be ok, and hit the bullseye first try with one of the trusty bullets of his weapon.

No satisfaction like there'd normally be.

The anger in him bubbled up more and more.

He was going to regret this..


	8. Chapter 8

OK! 8! YES! YAY! I THINK! I DON'T KNOW! YAY! :P

I dunno man, I like the last three chapters, cause I like writing this Clint!

HOPE YOU ENJOY!

Reviewers at the end this time, cause AnimeGirl58 reasons!

DISCLAIMER!; OWN NOTHING! NOT EVEN THE IDEA! I'M JUST THE WRITING MONKEY THIS TIME!

* * *

"Just.. Keep an eye on him."

"Worried, Stark?"

"You're not, Widow?"

"He's been through worse." She shrugged, shooting the billionaire a slight smirk as she folded her arms across her chest. "I gotta say though; this little protective side you have is amusing us all. Never knew you had it in you."

"Well, I like keeping you all guessing." He shrugged, daring a glance over his shoulder from his position flying the jet.

They were trying to get Clint back into the swing of things.

Trying to get Clint back full stop.

He never knew the archer all that well, couldn't say he ever held much of a conversation with the man or cared too much about who he was other than a damn fine marksman. But even Tony could tell that something wasn't right, that something wasn't Clint. He got his memories back, he got his arm back miracuously. The warnings and beeping's on the screen were all false. He still had to figure out how a simple serum could trick some of his best equipment into malfunctioning. A number of theories were flying around his mind; the heat caused from the initial injection was too much for the sensors to handle and they simply broke, the readings were so bizarre to the system that it just assumed no human could live through it and called a flat line, or the worst one and the one he thought most likely; Clint did actually die for a while before the serum brought him back.

The team weren't happy with him. While Clint was out, he could just feel the tense 'If this doesn't work out, Tony..' vibe coming off each of them through the month. Honestly, if it didn't work out and they lost the archer, there'd be a line to kill Tony and he thought for a while that he'd be at the front of it.

But they took him from the pod and he had an arm! A fully functional right arm once more! Banner ran so many tests that Tony was convinced the arm would be left like a pin cushion. What amazed them each time was the pin pricks from needles drawing blood would heal straight away. Without the others knowing - because he was on thin enough - they ran some more serious tests; cutting Barton at various depths, breaking a finger, burning the skin - basically anything that would cause physical injury to the archer. Each and every time the spot would glow a dangerously hot orange and the wound would heal right before their eyes.

It was a scary thing to witness.

Tony had seen it before. He's fought these guys, fought the ones who were yielding the original formula. They'd heal from repulser shots, gun shot wounds, even explosions within a matter of seconds and look like nothing had happened. Yet, even knowing that, knowing how inhuman and scary these guys were, he turned Barton into one of them.

But he had to help.

"But you know as well as I do something's not right.." He said quietly, looking back out from the other team members to the skies they were soaring through.

Clint was everyone's main focus as of late, after they learned he snapped at something as simple as missing a target in the gym. They had been watching him. Tony was sure he knew exactly what they were doing, studying him, waiting for anything to let them know that this was the worst mistake Tony had ever made.

He was sitting in between Bucky and Steve on the other side of the jet, cleaning out his rifle just as Bucky did his. The pair of them made on hell of a team, made missions so much better knowing that there were two expert snipers with near impeccable records to their name watching your back. Hopefully neither would be needed - but it was nice knowing they were there! Today was the first mission they were letting Barton out of his sniper nest and back onto the ground.

He didn't talk. Which was the most worrying thing. Usually, on the way to missions - regardless of how dangerous or serious they were - Clint would be joking and singing, trying to bring the whole team into a relaxed mood. Of course, it would piss some of them off sometimes, but it was always a feigned pissed off to try get to the archer just like he was trying to get to them.

"You think that'll have an effect on his mission skills?" Natasha asked with an eyebrow raised. She was leaning against the control panel of the jet while watching Clint. She was never as subtle as the others about watching him, but Clint seemed to be used to it, so he never paid any attention when her eyes were on him other than to smirk and wink at her the odd time.

"I don't know." He shrugged. Maybe not in a bad way, but not in a good way either. "He's more aggressive, more short tempered. But he'd faster and stronger and not even Barnes could catch him off guard once he got used to his body again. I don't know how this'll play out."

"Well, it's a simple in and out job." She shrugged, moving away from the console then to move to the others. "It'll be fine."

He wished he could believe that. He really did.

* * *

They'd never admit it, and if he ever asked they'd deny it to the high heavens; but this mission was a set up. It was something they were using to try see how Clint would react in an actual mission situation rather than just training with them. They knew how he reacted to things that'd frustrate him, knew how fast he could run and how heavy a thing he could lift and throw, he knew he was still as reliable a shot as ever as he watched over them. They just didn't know how his mind would make decisions just yet in battle, in the heat of the moment.

So, Stark looked up an active AIM base, a tiny little place just outside of Boston. There couldn't be more than 50 agents in the place so in terms of Avenger work it was piss easy.

'Come on, Cap. Not tired yet, are you?'

Tony smiled a little to himself at Clint's voice echoing through the jet, the comms on loud speaker so himself and Banner wouldn't have to have those damn earpieces in while monitoring the mission. He had to admit; he was impressed. Sure, on normal days the skill Clint showed would impress him to no ends. But now the archer was moving through the base and taking out the guards like a whole new man. It was fluid and smooth. He never missed a beat, never paused for a breath, and Tony couldn't help but feel a little tinge of pride swell up at the fact that he helped this side of Clint surface!

While he felt pride, while he loved how well Clint was doing because it showed the team he was right to take the risk, he still knew this wasn't right. Something wasn't right. And he couldn't place his finger on it. If Natasha wasn't worried - and the woman knows better when it comes to Clint Barton - then he shouldn't be either.

'You wish, Barton.' Tony looked to the monitor which followed Steve when he spoke, seeing the Captain take out three guards just as easily as Clint did. 'Just keep your eyes open and don't worry about me.'

'Have to make sure you don't drop dead, old man!' Clint laughed out. Tony raised his eyebrows when he spotted the archer literally flying across the rafters in an acrobatic master class, taking out guards with expertly placed bullets as he went along. None dead, all incapacitated though.

"Still think this was a bad idea?" Tony smirked. He sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head as he looked to Bruce for an answer.

"I do." Bruce nodded with a slight frown. "He's reckless. Clint was never like that."

"He was just given powers that he'd normally only be able to dream of! Banner, come on, admit that it worked and the others will get off my case!" Tony clapped a hand on his friends shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze as he grinned at the man.

"This is just one mission." Bruce sighed, using his index finger to rub at his chin in thought. His eyes stayed glued to the monitor showing Clint's progress through the camp. "And so far I don't like what I'm seeing."

"What's not to like?" Tony asked with an eyebrow raised. From what he could see; it was damn perfect! "You see that kid moving through there like he's Captain America? How can you not like that!?"

"Because he's not Captain America." Bruce frowned. Tony looked back to the screen when Banner leaned in closed, his elbows resting on his knees. "Tony, I know you think you created one; but he's not a super soldier. This stuff is dangerous and you're just throwing him in the deep end.."

"Call it a trial by fire." Tony shrugged. Clint was laughing his way through the base now. Even Steve was amazed at it, but the good Captain took up the archers challenges anyway!

"How did you solve the over heating?" Bruce asked slowly. That was Tony's way of knowing the question had only dawned on the doctor. He'd usually blurt it out if he had been thinking on it a while.

Tony shrugged.

"Tell me you solved it." Banner groaned and Tony could see from the corner of his eyes that he was facepalming.

A smirk and another shrug met Bruce's question.

"Honestly doc, I haven't a clue." He admitted finally, leaning back in his chair once more as the mission wound down. Clint was meeting up with Natasha now and it seemed the assassin wasn't too happy with all of Clint's joking around! "I thought I solved it years ago in that hotel room. But it didn't work, otherwise AIM agents wouldn't have been blowing up in my face. I just increased the measure of the solution in the formula and hope it worked!"

"Hope it worked..?" The tone of Bruce's voice made Tony chuckle. It always amused the billionaire when he completely and totally shocked Banner! "It's a virus, Tony. You have to find some way to release it's natur-"

"Release it's natural tendencies or it will change those tendencies and become both unpredictable and unstable." Tony interrupted Bruce's explanation, his tone bored and his eyes rolling as he rattled off the passage he knew from nearly all virus control text books. "Yeah, got that."

"He's a time bomb." Bruce suddenly said in a hushed whisper, and maybe he was right.

Both watched in slight horror as the scene on screen became a little more heated. Natasha was pissed off at him, that was nothing new as far as Tony was concerned. Usually happened once a mission and this didn't even look anywhere near their worst little spat. But Natasha shoved Clint. Again, not uncommon. Actually, it is. Other times if he annoyed her through the whole mission like Tony thought he did on this one then the laughing idiot would get a kick to the groin and be left there doubled over!

But Clint didn't take too kindly to having someone put their hands on him. While his rifle had been slung over his back after taking out the last guard - in one swift and nearly unseen motion it was in his hands once more and raised, aiming right at Natasha's forehead. A whole lot of shouting was filling the jet through the comms - both Steve and Bucky yelling to drop the weapon, Thor trying to reason with Clint that this was no way to treat a fellow team member. Natasha was calm enough, she knew like Tony did that Clint wouldn't take the shot. Clint was quiet though. A little too quiet. On the video feed he could see the archers jaw set square, his eyes drilling holes into Natasha and his hands unwavering in their position. His finger was ghosting over the trigger, and that was when Tony knew something went wrong, that's when he knew Clint wasn't right somewhere in there, because sure he'd aim weapons at them all the time, always threatening in that joking Barton way. But his finger was always safe and clear, the bow string was always held in a fist so the arrow would never release. Never had he been so close to it.

He knew that something was wrong, but he wouldn't admit it. He always admitted that the only way he knew that day he fucked up was when the video feed picked up on the orange glow travelling through Barton's body. When it disappeared, Clint was heard taking a deep breath. The next second, the rifle was place back in it's place around his shoulders and he was walking away from the team who all had their weapons and confused looks trained on him.

Tony and Bruce let out a sigh of relief and sagged in their seats. He didn't even know he was holding himself tense through that encounter!

The feed continued to follow the trackers in each team member, though Tony's eyes were just on the archers screen. He was looking straight ahead of him as he walked out of the base, not even bothering with any of the injured men he passed, not bothering to help the rest of the team clear the final office.

Tony shook his head a little as he realised that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong this time around. He whispered Bruce's words from only moments ago under his breath as the realisation set in.

"He's a time bomb.."

 _I made a time bomb out of my friend.._

* * *

"So, what do we do?"

Tony ignored Steve's question, too busy watching the mission footage for what must be the tenth time in a row. He sighed and shook his head to let the captain know he had no idea.

The jet ride back was.. Tense, to say the least. No one spoke, no one looked at Clint, no one dared go near him. He just sat in the seat at the back of the jet, put his head back against the wall, and fell asleep for the whole ride back. What were they to say after what happened? They could hardly act like nothing happened, and bringing it up would most likely just spark something in him again. So, it was best just to leave him be and let him cool down.

Literally.

He didn't know if it was a heat thing, didn't know if Barton really was about to blow the place sky high, but Tony had to be careful. He couldn't risk that happening. Sure, he had a soft spot for Clint after everything. He thought they were friends, even if Clint was now avoiding the billionaire like the plague after giving him his arm back - but none of that meant he could endanger the lives of the rest of the team.

Himself, Bruce, and Steve had been holed up in the lab for the past three hours, having headed down to the most secure part of the building right after landing to see if they could sort this mess out.

"He feel threatened?" Tony asked after thinking for a moment. Natasha pushed him, sure. But it was only a playful shove, after Clint told Natasha some crappy joke to try make her laugh. Even new-and-not-so-improved-asshole Clint should have realised that it was nothing more than play.

"I don't think so." Steve said though a sigh. He was leaning against one of the benches with his arms folded across his chest. He hadn't even gotten a chance to change out of his star spangled get up yet. "He didn't seem angry. He seemed pretty damn calm actually."

"I don't think a calm person aims a rifle at someone's head." Bruce sighed. He placed a cup of coffee infront of Tony and the billionaire took a grateful swig as he enhanced the footage once more, trying to get every single little detail possible.

"He didn't fire. Even with a shield, a rifle, and a hammer trained his way." Tony said quietly, under his breath, maybe hoping they wouldn't hear him.

"I don't think that makes his actions ok." Steve frowned. Tony turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

"How many times has he aimed an arrow at you for eating the brownies he saved?" Tony asked with a 'Hmm?' added at the end. Steve frowned a little in confusion, but Tony didn't expect him to answer. He looked to Bruce then. "Or a taser at you because he wanted to bring out the big guy? This is still Clint. You guys just over reacted!"

"That wasn't Clint." Steve said sternly. Great, Tony brought out the Captain voice! "Clint jokes around those times, he laughs and has his fingers no where near ready to release. From the replay, it seems like he was applying a nice amount of pressure on that trigger."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Cap." Tony sighed in defeat. "Something went wrong today, I'll admit that. But he's making progress!"

"Nearly pulling a trigger on his oldest friend isn't progress." Bruce frowned. The video was now as clear as it could possibly be, and they were all staring at it. The orange glow was alot more prominent. Tony couldn't doubt that the other two saw it this time. "If that was someone else, if it wasn't Natasha staring him down that calmly rather than antagonising him, then we'd be having an awfully different conversation right now."

"We need a contingency plan." Steve finally said, stepping up to pause the video on a frame that showed just how blank Clint's eyes were during the whole incident. "Like we have a green plan for a Hulk incident. We need a plan to-"

"You're suggesting we plan to take Clint out?" Tony interrupted in shock, sure his eyebrows were through the roof at the captain's suggestion. Steve just held Tony's gaze. "He's not like the hulk who we just have to shoot at a few times until he wears himself out! We can do some serious damage!"

"And you don't think you've done damage to him!?" Steve spat back, the pair in each others faces now. "You've unleashed something you have no idea about! How do we know he isn't planning on taking all of us out right now!?"

"Guys, arguing isn't gonna-"

"This is Clint!" Tony yelled for what seemed like the millionth time. He ignored Bruce's attempts at trying to calm the pair down. "He wouldn't do that! This is just a little bum-"

"Clint's gone!" Steve yelled back. It caused the billionaire to take pause which gave Steve the chance to pull the screen between them so Tony was staring right at it. He averted his gaze. "You haven't even looked at his face all the times we've played this! You know like we all do that Clint's gone and we're not getting him back. This stuff makes good things great, that's for sure. But it makes bad things worse. Clint was a great guy, but who knows how much dark he had in him before the accident. I don't know who you brought back, but it's not Clint, and you have to stop pretending it is."

Silence.

Steve won this one.

This wasn't Clint. He couldn't look at the man on the screen because it wasn't his friend no matter how much he hoped and prayed to a God he never believed in. That wasn't Clint. Clint was gone. And there was no way of getting him back.

But, they had to make do with the Clint they had. They had to make sure they could get the archer back to as close as normal as they could, get rid of the anger, make sure he didn't fall to the pits like the AIM agents and subjects all did. They had to fix whatever was broken.

"How's Thor getting on with Odin..?" Tony asked quietly, his shoulders sagging in defeat. Steve took that as the que to move the screen back to it's original position.

"He's more than happy to send healers down or take Clint up." Bruce said softly. The tension in the room was making it burst at the seams. Perfect weather for a green rage monster to grow. "Only if we need to get that stuff out of him."

"Do we?" Steve asked calmly, the famous eyebrow raise following which told Tony that he well knew the answer.

 _Do we?_

He didn't think they'd ever have to. Like any new powers, like any new addition to the body, Clint just needs to learn to control it, to master it and make it not a threat anymore. If anyone can do it, Clint can. He just needs time, needs practice. Tony has no doubt in his mind that Barton can get through whatever mood he's in and come out the other side as the calm and respectful archer they all know.

What was the mood though? He glanced at the video still and frowned to himself. He'd be in control one moment, showing them that the old Clint is in there somewhere and it's just taking time to bring him back. He'd be joking, he'd be fighting like usual, he'd be kicking ass and taking names and it would be perfectly fine. Then something small would be done, something said, something to annoy him, and he'd snap like that.

"What's setting you off..?" Tony whispered to himself, leaning on the table to stare at the Clint on screen, briefly glancing at the live security feed following Clint to see him happily snoozing on one of the sofa's in the common area.

"Everything." Steve said from Tony's side, even though it wasn't really a question directed at the Captain. "Any little incident sends him out of control."

Maybe it wasn't directed at Rogers, but dammit his answer helped Tony!

"Out of control.." Tony repeated, his mouth forming a little 'o' before he turned to look at the other two. "He doesn't want to be out of control."

"Well I didn't mean to imply he did want to lose it, Tony." Steve defended. "I know he's not that far gone."

"No, no." Tony shook his head quickly to dismiss the captains words. Everything was falling in place for him now! "Not like that. He got trapped in that room, he lost his arm, he had that stuff put in him, he got his life thrown in so many different directions in the past few months all because he was out of control."

Bruce's eyes snapped to understanding in an instant, though Steve was still looking confused, so Tony continued.

"The few time's he's snapped; when he couldn't hit the targets with his arrows, when he couldn't stop himself falling off the rafters cause his foot slipped, when Barnes took him out in sparring, and then when Natasha shoved him. All those times-"

"Control over himself and something he knew he could control was taken from him." Steve finished with a nod of understanding. "He's loosing it because he wants it back."

"How do we fix something like that?" Bruce asked with a curious frown. That was the question.

All the lack of control over the past while could be traced back to one moment, one time when he lost it all because he lost control over the situation entirely. It could all be traced back to one split second decision that cost him everything.

Tony frowned and turned back to look at the security feed. He looked so peaceful while sleeping, so at ease, even though that mind was more messed up than even Bruce could ever comprehend.

He hated the only idea in his mind to get Clint to calm down, to get over this funk he was in, but it slipped from his lips anyway and shocked the others.

"We need to send him back against Doom.."

* * *

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REVIEWERS!

Niom Lamboise; Glad you liked it pal! Hope you like this one! By the way, that's two chapters updated since our last talk, just reminding you! ;)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; Yeah, I'm already too bored with college so have my next three stories nearly written :P Should've known there'd be no keeping me away! Glad you liked the last one :) Something tells me Clint would be way too restless a type for meditating to work! I think he only stays still when he has a rifle in his hand!

amy. d. fuller. 9; Kinda like writing new Clint! But yeah, I do feel bad for not giving the team old Clint back! But, super powers can change people! Glad you liked the last one :)

AnimeGirl58; Not many feely touchy moments left, me thinks, so you should be fine! But *Give you a Hawkeye teddy* There we go!  
Lots of questions there :P The whole serum thing is complicated. It's a well developed serum in both comics and movies, therefore I don't have much room to play with it but I try! Tony did change it as best he could so Clint wouldn't go boom in this story, so yes, it is trying to find other ways to cope. The one I have most fun with is toying with Barton's fury! Because he's usually level headed, yeah, but that's from years and years of training. So, I like to think that anything that upsets him or annoys him will make him nearly go boom!  
Speaking as someone with metal holding both their elbow, hip, and shin together after a horse riding accident; I can safely say that metal just becomes part of your body after a while. So, the serum would see it that way too! It's a virus, it would never get rid of something that is helping it's hosts body unless it's threatening the virus itself. So, it left the metal as was, because it was essential in keeping the host moving and intact even if the virus could heal him afterwards!  
Glad you liked it and sorry for confusing you but you have a teddy now so it's fine and a long response that's the reason why I put the comments at the ends this time! :P

ELOSHAZZY; Well, if you know StumpyTPDimples as well as you all should at this stage, you would know that she'd mess with the science experiment and never leave it as just a happily ever after! So many side effects planned, but just one major one that's pointed out in this chapter! Extremis, like I said above, is such a developed virus already that there isn't much play room. Clint is a super soldier who can probably breathe fire right now, that's kinda set in the definition of the virus, but it has not many known side effects other than blowing up it's host. So I'm gonna have fun in the next two chapters messing with Clint a little to see how many side effects I can draw out! ;) Glad you liked the last chapter and hope you like this one :)


	9. Chapter 9

OK! 9! ONE LEFT AFTER THIS!

I like CLint. I love CLint. New Clint is bad but still has heart, remember that!

REVIEWERS!

amy. d. fuller. 9 ; Sorry pal, won't get to see that until next chapter! Glad you liked it and thanks for the review :)

Niom Lamboise ; Glad you liked it :) Hope I updated quick enough for you! :)

IWriteSinsOrTragedies ; Holidays!? Somewhere nice, I hope!? :o Glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for the review, made me smile knowing you actually took time out from your vacation to read it! :)

ELOSHAZZY ; Did think of turning him into Human Torch, actually! :P Then I thought that would be a little too much for the poor guy to handle so simple powers would be enough! :P Glad you liked it, hope you like this one :)

Disclaimer; Disclaimed. Feck you, claim people!

* * *

There were alot of effects to this new serum. That was the simple way to put it. He could run without getting tired, he could fall and not feel the pain, he could lift without limit so far, and he was pretty sure he was getting closer to that whole breathing fire thing that was mentioned! His hearing was better than 100% for the first time in who knows how long, all aches and pains were gone, all scars that once graced his body had vanished.

But the one thing he found to be the best, the one super power per say that he couldn't wrap his head around, was that there was no nightmares.

For as long as he could remember, all the way back to childhood, back to even before the circus; he had nightmares. Each night. Be they about his father, about his circus days, or most recent years yielding night terrors about the people he's taken from this world and his conscience making him relive every single moment of whatever hit he was thinking about that night.

But, from when he woke up with this serum - this virus - running through his veins, he hadn't had one nightmare. He didn't tell anyone about it. Natasha knew about his nightmares, but most nights he hid them from her. She would be the only one to know, and so he really didn't want to bring up the fact that he had them each night before and now no nights after. It was something he couldn't wrap his mind around. Sure, the physical stuff made perfect sense - the virus was working on creating a perfect host body so that it would have the best chance of surviving along with it.

But why would it help his mind? Surely that's something the virus couldn't give a shit about. The scarier thought was that it wasn't helping him sleep; it was helping him clear his conscience. He just didn't seem to mind what he had done, what he might have to do in the future, nothing like that bothered him. It was him or them, and in the grand scheme of things, them being gone made the world a hell of alot better. So, why should he feel bad about it?

He sighed happily to himself and stretched out on the sofa, nuzzling the arm of it for a moment to try find the comfy spot he had a moment ago. He liked waking up without sweat drenched hair clinging to his forehead and his stomach ready to throw itself up! It was definitely the best part of this serum situation!

Of course, he was noticing some drawbacks.

The heat he felt sometimes was crazy. He was afraid in those moments that if he touched off something it would just automatically catch fire or if he touched someone then he'd leave them with some kind of horrible burns. It didn't burn him though. He didn't know how to describe it, and he didn't want to describe it to anyone lest they worry, but it was the only draw back he had noticed.

That, and his little temper problem. He could admit that he was always a bit of a fire head. If something set him off - usually that something happening in battle - then he wouldn't be able to calm down for the longest time and it would take some serious talking from Romanoff or Coulson to stop him going on a full force rampage. But this was different. Little things were sending him into a fit.

When he couldn't hit a target with his bow, that's when he noticed it starting. When they wouldn't let him make his coffee, when he couldn't figure out how to use Stark's new shower, when the rifle jammed during training, when Natasha pushed him..

That last one was the only time he ever thought about sending a bullet through Natasha Romanoff's skull.

Even when he was sent to kill her all those years ago, he never thought of doing that. Yet, when she put her hands on him - not the worst way she has over the years either - something in him snapped and he wanted rid of her.

It took everything he had to calm that side of his brain down enough to lower the gun. But he did, and he was thinking that that's something to be proud of, that even though he was the angriest he's ever been even over something so stupid as that he got the will power to cop on and drop the gun.

What went on in his mind he couldn't say. It was like someone just went over to some command central in his brain and flicked a switch telling him that everything's a threat and needs to be eliminated so he could gain control over the situation once again.

He opened his eyes when a chill went through him, and sure enough his sense was right, because Banner, Rogers, and Stark were all entering the room. They looked pretty serious, so he was sure he was about to get some telling off for the earlier incident. No one had spoken to him since the jet landed, except Natasha when he pulled her aside to apologise. She just smiled and waved it off with a 'Not the first time, not the last.' comment. It seemed everyone else would require a little more work to prove how sorry he was that it had happened.

"Well.. Your faces wouldn't go amiss at a funeral." He said with a slight smirk as he sat up on the sofa, trying to ease whatever tension had fallen on the room since their arrival.

Not even a smirk from Tony though. They all just took seats around the space, Steve on the sofa opposite Clint, Banner on the armchair, but Stark just stayed standing behind the Captain and was watching Clint with some eyes he's never seen on the billionaire before.

"Look.." Clint sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to get a little closer. He kept his voice low. "I'm sorry about what happened.. I don't know what did it, but I talked to Natasha and she's fine. Please don't pull me out of the game, I only got back in.."

That's what they were here for, right? That's why they had such horrid looks on. They were here to tell him he was a threat, a liability, and he wouldn't be going on anymore missions with them. It's the same face Fury had on him when he told Clint that he couldn't do anymore SHIELD assignments until things blew over after Loki fucked with his mind. He only got back in, the thought of being pulled out again had him a little panicky and the more he thought about it, the more he felt his control slipping.

"Relax Clint." Steve said with a shake of his head. He fell back against the back of the sofa, his eyes never leaving Barton though. "That's not what we're here for."

"Opposite, actually." Tony shrugged. He was avoiding Clint's eye. He couldn't tell why.

"Mission?" Clint asked with an eyebrow raised, sitting up to attention then. Habit. After years of devoted service to SHIELD, the second he hears that there's a mission he goes full soldier mode.

"Kinda." Bruce said in a near sing song tone. They were skirting around some subject, but Clint knew better than to ask. If they wanted to tell him, they would.

"Look, we need your help." Steve said a little more sternly. It drew his attention straight away.

"My help?" He asked curiously. "I can't do shit right now. Bucky can probably do my job for me."

"Well, we don't need him." Tony shrugged. Clint had to grin when Steve shot him a hurt look. "You know what I mean, Cap."

"Barnes is a great soldier alright." Banner nodded, watching Clint's reaction for something. "But he doesn't have the intel you have, the skills you have when it comes to this mission."

"Point is." Steve said through a sigh to cut Banner off - before he gave away too much Clint guessed. He turned his attention back from the billionaire to Clint instead. "You're needed for this mission. You in or out?"

"Always up for a good mission!" He grinned, falling back against the back of the sofa with his arms sprawled out over the back of it. "Where to? Hydra misbehaving again? Really should live up to your name Cap and get rid of those for good."

"Cut off one head.." Steve said with a slight grin, shrugging then before leaning on his knees once more to watch Clint. Serious face was on. "We're going after Doom."

His hearing wasn't fixed.

That was the only explanation for what he heard.

With an eyebrow raised, he rubbed at his ear to try make sure it was clear and actually working. But no, those were the words that left the Captain's mouth. They were the words he heard and the words that were currently struggling to register in his mind. 'We're going after Doom.'

"Sorry Rogers, don't think I heard that right." Clint laughed a little nervously, shaking his head when the three men looked at him with worry. "I thought you said we're actually going after the man who blew my arm off."

"Clint.." Bruce began softly, but Barton held a hand up.

"I mean, that would be stupid, right?" He said with a shrug at the end, eyes still on Steve as the men stared eachother out of it. "I'm not 100%, I can't shoot my bow, I'm no where near as dangerous or effective with a gun, and don't get me started on how unused to these powers I am. Still, with all that, you want to go against the man who nearly killed me when I was at my best?"

Silence.

But Clint just smirked at each man in turn before landing back on Steve.

"When do we start?" He asked with a grin, sitting up so he was ready to get himself prepared.

Tony's smirk was the only thing Clint noticed. From the corner of his eye, he did see Bruce cast a curious glance Steve's way, as if they were expecting him to act any other way.

"Clint, we need to make sure you're aware what this is." Bruce said carefully, but Clint was already standing.

"Look, guys, I'm freaking a little, I'll admit it." He shrugged, stretching out his muscles. They were complaining after being curled up on the sofa so long. "But if you guys need it done.."

"Well, I think we'd all much prefer him behind bars."

"Or dead." Tony added to Steve's comment, holding his arms up in a defensive way when the captain sent him a glare. Stark winked at Clint when the archer let out a little laugh.

Or dead sounds perfect! It was the plan all along after all!

"Suit up, Hawkeye." Tony grinned. Turning to leave then. "Wheels up in an hour. I'm leading it this time!"

Sure, why not let Tony lead things for once? Steve didn't look too impressed about it.

But Tony wanted Doom hanging from the rafters by the neck. Clint really wanted that too.

So the fact that Stark would be leading this mission had Clint grinning on the way to his room.

* * *

"On your six, Cap!" Clint said through a grin as he rounded the corner, seeing that there was one sneaky little guard on his way up behind Steve with a knife as the captain fought off four others.

Clint didn't wait for Rogers to turn around, he just ran up to the guard from behind, snapped his neck clean in two, and was gone in a flash.

He jumped up and grasped the support beam on the roof with both hands, swinging away from Steve's fight with a smirk a moment later to avoid the hail of bullets that were being sent his way.

Another box passed, and he was beginning to see a pattern with them.

These were new, or at least Clint had never noticed them before. The alarm system wasn't known because this was the first time Doom had ever needed it. The years and years himself and Natasha have been breaking into this place and places like it, not once has Victor Von Doom needed to alert his troops in such a manner. It's how he knew they had him caught off guard. Other times he'd tell the guards before they even got close to the airspace.

This was new, and so were they. So Doom must be shaking in his boots right about now!

They had a bigger, badder, and much better team this time around!

The ever skilled Captain America, the rash and reckless Iron Man, the thunderer himself Thor, the big guy smashing guards left right and centre Hulk, a breathtaking and legendary sniper in the Winter Soldier, he most deadly woman to ever walk the earth Black Widow. And now?

Well, a new and improved Hawkeye!

The powers took some getting used to, he'd admit that all day long. Speed was tricky. It took him a few days of gym work on the treadmill to learn how to make his legs respond, but once he did he couldn't believe just how well they could run and dodge. His parkour course record was smashed in no time. Strength was easier! His arms hadn't felt this good in years! It meant that he could, just like now, swing from rafter to rafter like they were children's monkey bars without breaking a sweat. The strength he now possessed meant that fighting was cut down time wise by well over half - making his way through the enemies in no time flat. Even if he took a bad knock, one that would normally have him retreating for a moment to catch his breath or have him getting a little sloppy from pain, it wouldn't matter because his body would heal him in less than a second and he wouldn't even feel any different.

All in all, for missions, he loved these powers of his and he was wondering why the hell he didn't let Stark experiment on him years ago!

'Quit playing up there and do some work, Clint.' Natasha's voice came through the comms, causing him to give a little chuckle. He altered his swinging course to head towards her corridor instead.

He cleared his area five minutes ago. He didn't waste any time with any of the men sent his way. With these new powers he had decided that he's to protect his friends no matter what. And the only way he could actually do that was if he got his job done and over in as little time as possible.

He got to the end of her corridor and gave a slight smirk. He counted ten guards, easy take down for Natasha and he knew it, even if they did have guns and knives she was still better than all of them combined. Still though, nice to help out a lady!

He swung himself up and over the beam so his knees acted as pivots and anchors at the same time, allowing him to hang upside down from the support. He drew the rifle from his back and turned off the safety to get ready.

He was getting near perfect with his bow again, his arm finally responding how he wanted it to. That was in the range though, and sure he had practised on moving targets alright, but this was different. This was the most difficult mission he's ever taken even at full Hawkeye power. So he thought it best to leave his baby at home for now and bring the ever sturdy and true rifle.

He waited for the perfect chance, and when it finally came along he had to smirk to himself. The trigger pulled, and the bullet flew true, straight through two men's throats before embedding itself into the skull of a third man. They all lined up perfectly for him to take the shot, and their body's crumpled to the ground before anyone knew what had actually happened.

Everyone paused, even Natasha did. She shot him a glance, her voice coming over breathless over the comms a second later.

'Clint..'

He smirked at her and shot her a wink before using his momentum from a swing to climb back onto the beam. He landed in a crouch and repositioned the rifle onto his back before continuing in a sprint along the roof top supports.

"You can handle the rest of them, Tash! I'm going on an adventure!" He wouldn't realise until later why her voice sounded breathless. Not from over exertion through the fight, but because of the same reason she had shot him surprised eyes when the bodies of the dead men fell.

He continued on down the hall, giving a quick wave to Thor as he passed the Gods corridor. Even Clint knew better than to try help Thor! The Thunderer got pissy with anyone who took even half an enemy from him!

"Wooooooow now." He muttered to himself, skidding to a halt for a moment as he passed a row of doors. He was making his way towards the back of the of the castle where he knew all the good stuff was, but never before had he seen a door with an electronic lock on it. He could safely say himself and Natasha had busted down every single door in the place at one time or another looking for Doom, so either he somehow hid this one from him each and every time - completely possible- or it was new - also completely possible.

He glanced around for a moment and pouted to himself. Whatever was inside it was something Doom wanted kept to himself and whoever the hell knew the code to the place; because there were three cameras pointing at the damn thing - one in each corner and another right above the door. Clint wanted in!

He took the glock that was strapped to his hip and fired three shots, each hitting one camera and leaving the little devices as destroyed heaps of plastic and wires.

"Hit me with your best shot~" He sang to himself with a smirk, bending his knees slightly to jump from the beam. He caught the edge of it with one hand so his landing would be a little softer before he fell to his feet on the floor. "Fire away~"

'No singing!' Tony barked down the comms, and Clint had to laugh. It always did annoy the billionaire!

"Found something. Going exploring." He said softly into the feed, going flush against the wall with his glock still drawn and ready.

'What and where?' Steve asked pretty much as soon as the words were out of Clint's mouth. The archer shrugged.

"Not a clue and somewhere in the south-west sector. Has a keypad lock, Cap. Has to be something good."

'Careful. I'm two minutes from your location, be there in a moment. Hold your ground.'

"Not a chance, Cap!" Clint grinned, already eyeing up the keypad to see which buttons had been used most. He guessed that one wrong entry would set off a worse alarm than the one that was still killing his ears, so he'd have to be careful. "I've already taken out the cameras. I have maybe a minute at most before guards arrive."

'Idiot..' He heard Bucky sigh down the line. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the soldier as he went around. Either he was really good at hiding, or they didn't want Clint seeing him.. He'd bet anything that Bucky's job was Clint watch..

'I'm a half minute out, Clint.' Tony's voice came through this time. 'You head in, I'll follow.'

Clint hummed a mhm down to the team before plugging in the only logical sequence of numbers from the 4 most used ones. The same code they used to crack Dooms data files a few years ago. This wasn't new, so he definitely hid the room somehow when Natasha and Clint would be on their way.

"Going dark." He said calmly down the comms, turning them off then just incase. It was standard when entering an unknown place to go dark, just incase something inside the room could intercept frequencies and hi-jack them.

Gun raised, eyes trained, he entered the room once the door popped open. It was dark inside, the only light being the tiny little sliver streaming in through the barely opened door.

He didn't know what kind of room it was. Looking around revealed rows and rows of metal shelves, holding different jars and bottles filled with who knows what. There was a low hum coming from somewhere, a generator if he didn't know any better. He didn't know why a storage room would need something like that, unless it was a utility room aswell and there was just a lock on the door so no one could come mess with the power to the place.

Dammit, that's all it was.

He sighed and shook his head halfway through the rows of shelves, dropping his weapon to his side so he could turn his comms back on.

"False alarm. Just a utility room." He sighed down the device, eyeing a bottle of iodine on the shelf infront of him. "Want me to cut the power, think I found the generator. Might get rid of that alarm sound for go-"

A scream cut his words short and caused him to raise his gun once again. He turned on the spot a few times, trying to pin point the direction of the voice he was hearing. It was begging, pleading, wishing for something to stop. But Clint didn't know how to stop it, nor what the raspy voice even wanted stopped.

'Clint? That you?' Stark asked quickly, sounding a little panicked if Clint didn't know any better.

"Not me, Tony." Clint whispered, gun trained infront of him as he quietly stalked the room. "I don't know who or what it was.."

He could feel the control slipping, could feel the walls in his mind breaking down as his grip on his weapon tightened. He was losing it, like the other times, like the times he couldn't control a situation, and he knew that never ended well.

The further into the room he went, oddly enough the brighter it started to become. Soon enough, he found out why; at the very back of the room hung a lone light bulb from the ceiling. Below it made Clint's temperature rise to levels he hadn't felt since getting the serum injected in the first place.

It had to be a kid. He had to be no older than 16 or 17. He was strapped to a bed by his hands and ankles. Clint couldn't tell where the blood was coming from - just everywhere - covering the metal table beneath him in a horrible sticky mess. The hum was coming from something much worse than a generator, it was coming from a little motor on the side of the metal bed that was sending wires to a strap across his chest. Electrocution, Clint would know the smell of charred electrocuted flesh anywhere.

The kid was just about conscious, his slitted dead eyes starting at Clint as his chest rose and fell at worrying speed.

"Hey, hey it's ok." Clint whispered with a slight smile, lowering the gun to let the kid know he wasn't here to hurt him. "I'm gonna get you out, ok?"

'Clint, on your six. Where are you?' Stark came through. He could hear the mechanical suit, he must have just entered the room.

"Back of the room. We have an injured kid, needs medical bad." Clint replied quickly, working first and foremost on removing the electrodes incase they were on a timer and would electrocute him again.

A noise.

Someone hit off one of the metal shelves hiding the area, causing the glass jars to rattle off against eachother. He ignored Stark's and Rogers' voices as he watched, waiting, gun trained to protect the kid.

A moment, then two, he held up a fist to stop Tony advancing when he was close enough to see the archer and he could just about hear the mechanical suit backing away from range.

Patiently, he waited. Soon enough, a shadow finally caught his eye and he rushed over to the other side of the table to push a cabinet out of the way.

Behind it, cowering in a ball on the floor, was a white haired, speckled eyed scientist. He only knew that because he had a white lab coat on, the damn thing covered in specks of blood.

It was a good thing he was cowering, a wise thing, because Clint was about to kill him.

"The fuck are you?" Clint growled, earning a squeal from the man before a sob as he aimed the gun at his head.

"Please! I was just following orders!" He sobbed out, his hands covering his head as if that would stop a bullet from blasting his brains out from this range.

Clint growled once more and reached out to grab the mans collar, his hand glowing orange as he pulled the man out to the little clearing. He scrambled to his knees, still sobbing as he landed in a begging position infront of Clint. His arms remained unmoving in their aiming of the glock.

"What's been done to him?" Clint asked lowly, cocking the gun to get ready to fire at the first hint of a lie. "Why the fuck is he strapped to a table?"

"Doom's idea!" The man squealed. His eyes hadn't left the barrel of Clint's gun. "H-he heard about Hydra, AIM, hell even Tony Stark experimenting! He wanted in on the game!"

Experimenting..

Clint paled.

This kid was going through that hell!? Who even was he? Did Doom just pick him up off the street like the circus did Clint? Or did he volunteer like Pietro and Wanda did? Whatever it was, this guy was going to hell for putting the kid through such pain.

"What were you doing?" Clint's voice was getting dangerous. His mind was telling him to shoot, to kill every last bastard in the place and laugh as they're brought to hell. His heart was giving out hell to him though, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Clint." He looked up at Tony's voice, the billionaire in the Iron Man suit standing on the opposite side of Clint with his face mask up. "Drop the gun."

"What?" Clint spat. He couldn't mean that! He jabbed the barrel of the gun against the mans head with a growl. "Tony, do you know what he's done!?"

"Doom's done." Tony said carefully, his hands raising in surrender. How angry was Clint getting if even Tony was scared..? "He's just following orders.."

"He has a choice!" Clint yelled, finger ghosting over the trigger. He ignored the man's begging.

"So do you." Tony replied softly, taking a tentative step forward.

"I know. And I've decided to rid the world of another monster!" Clint smirked, applying the slightest bit of pressure to the trigger before he was knocked off his feet.

He didn't even notice Bucky come into the room! He was too focused on getting rid of the scum still kneeling on the floor. He didn't notice the sniper until he was tackled to the floor by him, gun clattering harmlessly away from him as Barnes sat on his back to restrain him.

"Get off!" Clint yelled, trying his best to buck his body in such a way that would get the soldier off his back. No luck though, never any luck in out matching Bucky.

"Calm down." Barnes said in his ear, but it just managed to piss the archer off more. His temperature was way too hot now, he was starting to feel it actually burn him.

"You calm down!" Clint spat back. Childish? Nah! "Buck, you don't know what he's done! Look at that kid! We have to get rid of them all, fuck them all, fuck their choices, fuck Doom, this is too far!"

"Clint!" Tony's yell cut off his little rant before he even got going. Stark was kneeling down infront of Clint's face, looking him right in the eye with a frown. "You need to calm down, ok? You're not you right now."

Not you..? The fuck was that supposed to mean!? He was taking out scum like this since before Tony even thought of being a hero! This is who he is!

"Killing innocent guards, Clint. You never do that." Tony said a little quieter, his eyes softening. "Wanting to kill a man in cold blood, getting so angry that you can't control your thoughts, recklessly running into things, thinking yourself above them, not taking a mission seriously.. Clint, don't turn into Doom."

Don't turn into Doom..

His eyes went wide at those words, his body going completely still as they sank into his brain. They swam around his system, each time they hit a new nerve his body would tense more and more until he felt like getting sick.

Shit..

Killing innocent people, not giving a damn about the health or welfare of anyone else once his own goals were achieved, laughing at an enemy's pain and suffering..

That's what Clint had done this whole mission. That's what Doom's done the entire time Clint's known about him.

Shit.. He wasn't a hero anymore..

He was one of the people he hunted, the people he rid the world of.. He was what he never wanted to be, what he tried for years to avoid becoming..

He was no hero.. He was a damn villain..


	10. Chapter 10

This is long.. I think this was supposed to be half of Chapter 9 and then Chapter 10 in my word document but I must have messed up and added the second half of Chapter 9 here by mistake and yeah!

Last chapter!

Thank you for sticking with the story, it was a fun one to explore! Thank you to ELOSHAZZY for the request! Thank you all for the support! Sure, I write to pass some time I have free, but I also write for you guys so it's nice to know y'all like it! :)

Reviewers;

Niom Lamboise; Glad you liked it! Hope this chapter is worth the wait and thanks for sticking with it throughout!

IWriteSinsOrTragedies; Ah don't worry about Bucky! Address that in the first few lines actually! All heat is internal, like Tony programmed it to be! All good things must come to an end, that's right! But a thing isn't beautiful because it lasts. I hope you enjoyed the remainder of your trip and I hope you like the last chapter :)

clevervulpus; Why thank you my dear :) I don't like hurting Clint, but it's gotta be done sometimes! Glad you liked it :)

ELOSHAZZY; Oh they'll help him! Just not this story though. Cause there may be a sequel about all of that and him having a bit of fun, well, you'll know where at the end! Glad you enjoyed it, thank you so much for the idea, and I hope I did it justice for you! :)

Thanks again folks! Until next time! :) x

Disclaimer; Do not own! Disclaimed!

* * *

"You sure you're ok?"

"He wasn't even warm. Little sweaty, but he's been fighting through the base at some speed so that's normal."

Tony nodded at Bucky's explanation, the pair speaking in hushed tones, their backs turned towards Clint. He glanced over his shoulder at the archer and frowned slightly.

Maybe it wasn't the wisest thing to say, but it was the only thing he knew that would stop Clint from killing someone who would have information more valuable than any of them could ever dig up. But he took it hard.

As soon as the words sunk into his mind, Bucky and Tony could do nothing but watch him spiral in on himself. When two minutes passes, and he hadn't moved a muscle even with the soldier sitting on his back, Tony knew they might have fucked up. Once free, he just sat up, scooted back into a corner, and had sat there with his knees hugged close to his chest ever since. He hadn't said a word in the past five minutes, hadn't looked their way, just stared down at his hands. They left him to his thoughts as they tied up the scientist for extraction and now as they worked on making sure the kid that was strapped to the table was ok.

"I don't know how." Tony sighed, turning his attention back to the kid who Barnes was currently patching up with the little medical pouch from his belt. "You see how hot he was glowing?"

"That's not good." Barnes frowned, his head shaking. "Tony, whatever you did to make sure he doesn't blow didn't work. I think it's just trapping the heat inside him."

"If he gets too hot again he could fry himself instead of blowing." Tony frowned with a nod. He dropped down his face plate to check the kids vitals on the digital read out. "If we can get this guy to SHIELD soon, he'll be fine. No immediate danger."

"And Clint?" Bucky asked in a whisper.

And Clint..

"He's in no shape to continue this.." Tony sighed. He knew the archer wasn't going to come out of this funk anytime soon.

The pair jumped a little - yes when telling the story he doesn't say they jumped to the roof and swore like drunken sailors on helium.. At least Barnes didn't - when a shockwave tore trough the room, the muffled sound of an explosion quickly following. Bucky instinctively covered the injured man on the table, Tony instinctively turned to make sure Clint was ok. Barton didn't even seem to register that something happened, didn't seem bothered that there was sediment falling on his head at that very moment.

"One of ours?" Tony asked with an eyebrow raised, popping open his faceplate once more to look at Barnes. He was eyeing the roof suspiciously like it would collapse any moment.

"None of ours are strong enough to do that." He shook his head, moving quicker to try get the kid stable enough to move.

"Cap, any report?" Tony asked quickly, Steve replying half a second later.

'Not us. Not Doom's guards. Someone else is trying to blast in.'

"If word of experimentation got out.." Bucky started, lifting the kid up and over his shoulder when he had all the wounds wrapped up enough.

"Then it could be anyone." Tony finished with a nod, smirking a little when he noticed Jarvis already running a surveillance scan. "We can't fight off Doom and another agency, not with us in here and Clint broken."

"So?" Barnes asked. Tony's call, he was the one running this mission. He sighed and looked around the room. The scientist was still tied up against the wall, Clint still in a state of shock in the corner, a kid dying on Bucky's shoulder, and more mortars falling on the castle.

"Abort mission." Tony said sternly down the comms, the nod he received from Barnes let him know it was the right call. "Clint's out for the count and we have an injured kid needing help. Too many distractions to fight off two forces and, honestly, I could really go for a scotch and a sleep! So, abort. Back to the jet."

Silence met him. He knew it would, they hadn't given up on a mission yet and this was a hell of a one to start with. But this mission was about Clint, about letting him face his demons and get rid of that anger, and as he approached the archer on the ground he knew that the mission had failed so it was better to count their losses and high tail it out of the place.

'We will meet you there, Stark.' Thor's voice was the first one to break through the silence that had fallen upon the team. 'Bring our friend back safe. The graces of battle were not on our side this day, but we will regroup and come back stronger.'

"Well said, Shakespeare." Tony chuckled, approaching Clint carefully to make sure he wouldn't attack. Barnes was already leaving the room with the kid on one shoulder and the scientist on the other. "On our way."

He was mumbling something to himself. Tony couldn't figure out what, but the tone and the speed of it made it seem like Clint was repeating the same thing over and over to himself. His hands were shaking, his face pale, the billionaire really didn't think he'd take it this hard! Carefully, Tony hunched down infront of Barton, placing his armoured hand over one of his.

"Come on pal." He said softly, but Clint didn't lift his gaze, didn't even acknowledge that Tony was there. "We're calling this. Someone else is after Doom and I think you need some ice-cream."

"Nothing but a bad guy.." Tony finally caught what Clint was mumbling over and over, and it made him frown. "Need it out.. Nothing but a bad guy.."

"Clint, come on." Tony frowned, his metal covered arm shooting out to protect Clint's head from falling debris as another explosion wrecked through the building. "I'll get it out of you, I promise, but we gotta make it out of here first."

'We're taking fire, Stark.' Steve shouted through the comms, his voice a little strained which let Tony know the captain was fighting through something. 'AIM agents, three battalions of them.'

"Can you hold them off?" Tony asked quickly, not bothering with Clint's mental state anymore. He just grabbed the archers arm and swung it over his shoulders to drag him to his feet. Barton was like a dead weight but the suit still allowed Tony to pretty much drag him from the room.

'Of course we can.' Natasha replied. Tony knew the tone of voice as the 'Rolling her eyes because Tony said something stupid' tone. 'But they're pretty damn close to your pretty shiny jet so I will not take the blame for the bullet holes that end up in it!'

"You keep them away from that jet, Widow!" He growled down the comms. He blasted his way through the castle, through all the walls he could to try get out of the place as fast as humanly possible.

"Tash.." Clint whispered by his side, and he looked to see his eyes a little less clouded. His comms must still be in so. "Tash, you gotta help me.."

'Clint..?' Natasha's voice had taken on a scary tone. Not that she was trying to be scary, don't misunderstand, more like she was the one scared. 'Clint, what's wrong?'

"Gotta get this out." He groaned as he screwed his eyes shut. Tony cursed a little when he saw his whole body glow orange again.

He didn't know what was happening, couldn't tell what was going on inside the archer, but it seemed like he was at war with the virus and that the virus was trying to defend itself. Maybe he should have installed some kind of off switch to the thing..

Dammit Tony, you're a genius, figure this shit out!

He shook his head and pushed forward with the archer a little quicker, blowing through another wall just as another mortar hit the castle.

"I think we're losing him." Tony said quickly, referring to Barton of course since the mumbling idiot hadn't answered Natasha properly. "Actually, I think he's losing him. The virus is taking over him."

'How is that possible?' Steve asked through a shout. Not that it was hard to be heard. Tony was guessing that the Captain was a little too angry at him for yet another complication with the previously fine archer.

Tony frowned and glanced once more at Clint. His eyes had stayed closed, and the only reason Tony knew for sure that he was still awake and not dead in his arms was because he was still muttering under his breath about needing the stuff out. A new mutter had Tony worried more than anything. Clint was now complaining about the heat hurting him.

He developed the serum from the plans he had stolen from AIM, the plans that were supposed to be locked away but were done so behind possibly one of the easiest servers to break into that SHIELD possessed. He took the basics and tweaked them to make the serum something that could actually survive. He had to make the virus smart, had to make it able to determine when it was about to destroy it's host by blowing it up, and thus teach it how to look after itself.

It seemed like that - much like nearly all of Tony's plans lately - completely and totally backfired.

"I made it too smart.."

* * *

"How is it doing it?"

"I don't know." Tony sighed, the three words leaving his mouth at Steve's question for the millionth time.

"Can you get it out?"

"I don't know."

"Will he survive it?"

"I don't know."

"Dammit Stark! What do you know!?"

He stared Steve down for a moment, both men sending a glare to the other. He understood Steve's anger, understood why the last sentence was spat out in the most venomous tone he's ever heard cross Rogers' lips, but that didn't mean he had to like the attitude he was receiving!

"I know I need a fucking scotch and a minute to think." He growled out, going towards the back of the jet where he kept the mini bar to see what alcohol he actually had there. It was his brain fuel, it had been for years, since the first time he jimmied open his dads liquor cabinet when Jarvis wasn't paying attention it had helped him in the tricky situations he couldn't figure out.

This was one of them alright.

He glanced over his shoulder from where he was pouring himself a scotch. Clint was in bad shape and Tony couldn't figure out why, not let alone how to help. When they finally got back to the jet he placed Clint on a table next to the kid who Natasha was still working on. They weren't in the air yet, they needed to stabilise the guy they found before they risked flying him anywhere, so they taxi-ed the jet a bit away from the fight that was still going on. Each time he looked over he never noticed the kid though, his eyes just trained on the archer curled up on his side, his eyes screwed shut like he was in some crazy amount of pain. Every now and then there'd be a whimper and when Tony would look to see what was happening the orange glow would be running it's way through Barton's body.

"Thor, any word on Banner?" Tony asked into the comms, knowing the god as well as a pretty annoyed Bucky Barnes were searching to see if Hulk had calmed down yet or if he was still kicking ass in the castle.

'Nay, I am afraid to admit. I can not locate our friend.' Definitely still kicking ass in the castle. If he was Banner again, he'd have checked in by now. 'I have also lost Sergeant Barnes in the midst of fighting our foes.'

"Dammit.." Stark whispered under his breath, emptying his scotch in one gulp before turning to look at Clint once more. Barnes would be fine, always is, but Stark really needed Banner, needed some sort of medical advice. Even if the man isn't an MD, he was as close as and as good if not better than most of the doctors he'd be able to find in any hospital.

"What's it doing to him?" Steve asked with a frown, the captain now by Clint's side. Natasha glanced from the kid to Clint before finally looking to Tony with a frown of her own. She was worried about Clint, claiming when she gave him a check that he had a fever. He was cool to the touch, but still moaning about being way too warm.

Tony didn't know how to describe what was happening in soft terms, so he just went right into it. Sure they had seen some shit in their day, describing this should be fine!

"I think I fucked up." Yep, that's scientific shit right there! The eyebrows of both Rogers and Romanoff hitting the roof meant he had to elaborate. "I tried tweak the formula so it wouldn't blow up, so it wouldn't destroy Clint. But I think the virus is still trying to find a way to get rid of whatever heat and energy it would have expelled through exploding, so it's.. Well.. I think it's just imploding instead.."

"Imploding." Natasha didn't ask, didn't question the word, she tested it on her tongue like she just couldn't believe what Tony was saying, and held a face that would usually call his bullshit.

"Best layman term I could think of." He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried think of a better way. "All the heat is reverting backwards. Guys, this thing is cooking Clint alive."

"You idiot." Steve growled. His hands were in fists by his side, Tony never realised just how protective of Clint the captain was! "You made him worse!"

"You think I don't know that, grandpa!?" Tony snapped back ,stepping over to square up to Steve once more. "I fucking tried though! More than I can say for you! It was experimental and didn't fucking work, not my fault!"

"All your fault!" Steve yelled as he threw his hands in the air, a gesture letting Tony know he was too fed up. "Take some responsibility for once and fix this mess!"

"What..?" It was weak, but it was there. Barton's voice had all their attention snapping to him. His eyes were open for the first time in a while, even though he was still curled in on himself. Those steel eyes were locked on the kid, whose head had turned to look at Clint while the other three in the room were too focused on each other.

"Clint?" Natasha asked softly, moving back to stand by the archer.

Clint just shook his head quickly and sat up, shocking them all. He could barely lift his head a minute ago, but the wide eyes on him told them all they needed to know - Clint was back in mission mode.

"There's a kid still back there." Clint said quickly. He was sitting on the edge of the metal table, his hands gripping the sides. Tony had seen it before, when they'd try drag his ass out of bed for a mission - he was just trying to find the will to do what he needed to do. Despite the situation, Tony had to smile at the glimpse of the old Clint that was showing.

"How do you know?" Natasha asked with a confused frown, her hands on his back to support him if needed. Her eyes locked with the kid a half second later and they went wide enough to let Tony know she got her answer. When he got closer to them, he could hear it too.

A weak 'Brother.. Little brother' being repeated over and over like it was a last ditch prayer from the lips of the injured boy.

Family and kids; the two things that would have Clint Barton risking life and limb to save. It's like the kid knew that or something!

"Barton! Back on the table!" Steve commanded in a shout once Clint stood up. But Barton ignored him and went towards the back of the jet, for the one thing he brought on every mission but thus far hadn't even looked at.

"Cap, I can't leave a kid back there." Clint growled out in reply. He was trying to hide his pain, the pain that the now more prominent orange glow was causing him, but he was failing miserably. That wasn't what had the other three silent though; what had them silent was him snapping open his bow and throwing his quiver of arrows over his back just like he did all those times before, just like old Clint did. "I gotta go back for him!"

"You can't take on two armies, Clint." Natasha sighed, moving from the side of the bed to approach Clint. The look he sent her made her pause, but didn't make her back down. "Not on your own Clint. Just stay here and we can send Thor and Ban-"

"No!" Clint snapped. It even made Natasha jump, and that's saying something about how forcefully the word left the archer's lips. His hand tightened on his bow. "It's our fault the fucker isn't dead yet! We had so many chances to take him out, even before these kids were born I bet! So it's my job to get them out!"

He didn't wait for anyone to answer or argue with him, he just hit the release button for the doors and darted out full speed - full super enhanced speed - out of the jet.

"Dammit Barton get back here!" Steve shouted down the comms, but the archer didn't reply. Steve went to grab his shield, just as Tony began suiting back up.

"You're not in charge of this one, Cap." Tony reminded him with a smirk, purposely standing in between the super soldier and his shield as his trusty suit encased him. "I am. And I say let him go! I'll follow, you and Natasha get this kid air borne as soon as possible and get out of dodge. Got it, soldier?"

Normally, there'd be a witty retort. There'd be Steve telling him to fuck off, pushing the billionaire out of the way and running with his own orders. But that's when Steve would be in charge of the mission, when he'd be calling the shots and could ignore the billionaires suggestions. This time was different though! The setting of Steve's jaw, the slight straightening of his stance and lock of his eyes told Tony that his old army training was coming back to him at the sound of an order and there was nothing to stop the next words coming from the soldiers mouth.

"Yes, sir." It was through a growl, but Steve did turn back to go back over to Natasha who looked just as shocked as Tony did. Sometimes pre conditioning in soldiers - even super ones who single handedly ended World War 2 back in his day - was a god send!

"I'll bring him back in one piece this time." A bad joke, he knew it was, but Tony said it with a smirk and a wink anyway in Natasha's direction before letting his face plate fall into position. He was gone then, twirling in the air as he flew out of the jet and back towards the castle.

Over the comms for the past while, he was able to hear Barnes and Thor fight their way through the crowds. That had died down considerably since - so he doubted there was still alot of it going on. He still didn't know who really attacked the castle or why, if it was AIM or if Steve was just guessing at it, but if Doom stole some files from different organisations for whatever experiments he was at then he knew it was no one good leading the charge!

Barton would be fine though. It had been a while since Tony had seen that steely determination in the man's eyes, the look that let them know Hawkeye was there and not the yielding and caring Clint. This was a mission, and Hawkeye would complete it no matter what.

It scared Tony a little though - the no matter what thought. Because it was true. Clint would give anything to help someone, especially a kid. He saw it during the New York attack - when he'd ignore everything else to rescue kids trapped in building's or buses. Saw it during a siege that AIM held over a school - Clint went on a complete frenzy and nearly killed every last one of them single handedly. Not killed, never killed, not until today had Clint purposely killed anyone. He saw it alot closer and a hell of alot stronger during the Ultron attack. Those Maximoff kids buried their way into Barton's heart and Tony couldn't help but wonder if Clint saw them in these kids - experiments to everyone else, but scared and lonely kids needing protection to Clint.

He sped up when he saw the castle come into view. Clint couldn't protect Pietro and Wanda, as much as he tried. He still lived with that guilt and they all knew he did. So if these kids did remind him of the twins, then Tony was terrified of what it might cause the archer to do. That fear had him pushing the suit to it's limits so he could find Doom before Clint did.

* * *

Why he did it? He couldn't be entirely sure. His mind was telling him to forget it, forget the kid, fuck them all and focus on yourself. But his heart was screaming at his head and calling him a fucking idiot for even thinking of leaving someone as defenceless and innocent as a child behind. He didn't know how young the kid would be, but the one on the table called him little brother, and that was enough to send Clint's mind packing and his heart to take over. He had to save the kids, like he tried save the Maximoffs, he had to succeed this time or he wouldn't be able to live with it anymore.

It's the first time that's happened. All throughout the fighting, through the past few missions, his mind's been leading the charge. His heart hadn't had a say, his conscience was fucked out the window long before. He was a tool, a weapon, he was there to kill or be killed and that's all there was to it.

Now he was there to help people and that's all there was to it.

The virus didn't like that. He could tell as soon as he sat up on that bed, as soon as he made the decision to go for the bow instead of the rifle, he could feel the virus that had been controlling him the past while try to tighten it's hold on him and drag him back under.

He knew the feeling, it was the feeling he had when he was first coming around from the control Loki had over him. It was the fuzzy brain, the warped memories that tried to trick him into giving in to his attackers will, it was the feeling that he was in danger and he had to think of nothing and no one but himself. How the serum got smarts that could rival the tricksters he'd never know! But now that he had a clear head, he knew he was to have one long and not so pleasant talk with one Tony Stark about it!

Another arrow went flying, and it easily hit the chest of an on coming guard from the entrance of the castle. Not to kill. Never to kill.

He didn't know how the virus took him over so easily. He really couldn't figure it out, and the more he tried, the worse his head ache got. All he knew right now was that he was defying what the damn thing wanted and it was making him pay.

He fought on though. He ran through the base while ignoring the migraine, he shot arrows with pre-serum precision despite the burning pain running through his right arm, he kept pushing to try save this kid even though it felt like he was being burned alive and he knew he was moments away from collapse.

He kept pushing because that's what heroes do. Heroes defy the odds in order to help others, they put their lives on the line so that others won't lose theirs. They save people, and that's all he wanted to do right now.

The only way to do that; send an arrow through the skull of Victor Von Doom once and for all. He didn't seem to mind that plan all too much!

How many times was he was supposed to do that by this stage? Alright, usually it was a capture mission, but the folder usually contained a foot note along the lines of - in Fury's words why not - 'If that mother-fucker comes back in a bodybag I wouldn't care!', so all those times before he was allowed kill the guy and never had.

Now these kids were in danger, and it was all his fault.

He paused halfway through a hallway leading to the middle of the castle, his eyes screwed shut from pain that was ripping through his body. This was new..

He braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other still gripping the bow and now wrapped around his stomach as if it would help the searing hot pain. This virus wasn't happy. This virus was honestly trying to kill him.

He needed it out.

He needed it out for so many god damn reasons that he couldn't even list them right now!

Would I survive..?

He pushed that thought to the back of his head and pushed on, an arrow held loosely against the bow string incase he had to fire - though it looked like he was clear of the remainder of guards. It'd hopefully be a clear path to Doom's place, and a clear shot through his skull when he got there.

He just had to last long enough to see that through, he just had to live until Doom no longer did, then he really didn't care what happened to him. He'd have made the world a safer place and that's all he cared about!

He couldn't move away from the wall though. As much as he tried, his back stayed against the wall and his eyes remained down cast. He willed the pain away, willed his mind to stay on point and not let the virus take over.

"Gotta keep your head up.. Ohoh~" He sang weakly to himself, trying to keep him mind clear as possible as he took deep breaths. He pushed away from the wall.

"And you can let your hair down..~" He started walking, the song continuing on as he made his way slowly through the wall. His mind began clearing, the pain began to ebb away, he started to slip back into the Hawkeye he always was. "I know it's hard. It's hard to remember sometimes..~"

'I swear, if you're singing again Barton..'

He had to laugh as Tony's voice in the comms. Of course he was singing! During missions there were two ways you could do things; the boring normal way where everything's all serious, or the fun Clint Barton way. The Clint Barton way made him sleep that little bit easier at night.

"Want some country songs?" He smirked into the comms, a bit more quiet now though. He was in the hallway just around the corner from Doom's main room. If this was an emergency situation, which it was judging by the sound of the alarms still going off, Clint had a feeling that there'd be alot of guards behind that steel door. And all he had was a bow and arrow. Great.

'How about some Metallica?'

"I know Wagon Wheel, kinda like Metallica." He chuckled, taking a deep breath then as he reached for the grenade on his belt. "Hey Stark? How far out are you buddy?"

'On your six.. Or seven, I really don't know this spy talk.' Tony said back and Clint could hear the confusion in his voice. 'J's readout says 30 seconds out from the trace of your vitals... Oh.'

Clint smiled a little sadly. He must have just looked at his vital signs to see how far out he was, and the pain that was rushing around the archers body made him think they weren't doing the greatest!

"Cover your ears! Or whatever you can do in that suit." He smirked, poking his head around the corner for a moment. He grinned and waved at the two guards at the door before throwing the live grenade and taking cover once more.

He covered his ears to avoid damaging them and waited. Even with them covered, he could hear the guards freaking out, before hearing and feeling the explosion less than a second later.

'Please tell me that was you.' Tony's slightly panicked tone came through a moment after the shaking settled, and Clint was already nocking three arrows to take out as many guards as he could in the attack that was about to come.

"Come on Stark." He laughed, the pain giving way to the adrenaline that was running through his system. "I bet there's easily 50 in there. Bet you a million I can take out more than you."

'You're on, Barton. I'm nearly there, but sure, take a head start!'

He smirked to himself and nodded. Before stepping out, he took a deep breath, made sure his arm was drawn back, and took a moment to think about how shit crazy this plan actually was!

He stepped out, the dust was still floating around the destroyed doorway and bits of rubble were still falling from the hole in the wall, but he could already see the shadows of a line of about twenty guards in the place.

Lining up. How nice of them! Making Clint's job that little bit easier for him!

With a smirk he sent the three arrows flying, each hitting the mark in the centre of three guards chests - painful but not lethal. Before they even hit the floor he had three more nocked and was running to the other side of the hallway. There was still dust, so he predicted that the guards would just use the trajectory of the arrows to guess where they should shoot. Sure enough, bullets hit the opposite side of the hallway, and before they knew what hit them, another three went down with arrows in their chests.

"That's six to me!" Clint laughed down the comms, slinging his bow around his back then so he could jump up and grasp onto the pipes above his head. He used some momentum he gathered and swung so he could hang from the pipe by his knees, waiting for enough smoke to clear so the guards could see he just disappeared. "About to be nine."

'I'm fucking lost!' Tony growled back, causing Clint to laugh. He smirked at the confused faces of the guards, their heads turning left and right quickly to try find their attacker. That's all Clint needed though, that little second of doubt in their minds and lack of concentration. 'Ok, I see you!'

"Good! Cause I have one shot then I need you to take some out so I don't take a bullet to the skull." They were getting brave. A few of them were breaking line and stepping out of the room into the hallway. Five of them. He never shot straight more than three arrows, unless he was using his modified nine shooter that would do half the work for him. There were only enough finger gaps to properly nock three arrows. But, there's a first for everything! He added two more arrows, meaning while hanging upside down he was aiming 5 arrows at 5 guards, who all had some lovely looking AK-47's with his name on the little bullets.

This'll be fun!

He waited until he could see the Iron Man armour fly around the last corner before his. Only then did he let the arrows fly. Sure, they didn't hit dead on like they would if he single fired, but just be impressed the he just fired 5 arrows and each one hit somewhere around the chest area of each man!

He did a little celebratory jump dance before Tony went barrelling into the room, taking out the other guys with a fly-by as Clint untangled himself from the pipe.

"Did you see that!?" Clint cheered as he ran into the room, another arrow nocked incase there was someone else in there. He knew Doom was somewhere, probably in the back office on the top level of the main room, but he wouldn't show himself yet! "How awesome was I!?"

"Don't get cocky." Tony laughed, letting his face plate flip open to look at Clint. That smile was on him again, the one he saw in the past few months when he'd joke around or when he'd shoot the bow a certain way. The 'This is Hawkeye!' smile he now realised. "We still have one more."

"You're just jealous I took out eleven to your nine!" He grinned, patting Tony on the back as he passed to run towards the metal stairs at the side of the large area.

"We not going to plan this out?" Tony shouted after him. But the clanking let him know that the billionaire was following regardless!

"Past few times we've done that ended with nothing." Clint shrugged, running along the rafters to the back office. Through the glass of the windows he could see Doom, just waiting behind his desk with his hands held behind his back. He didn't have his mask on, which Clint found odd. He always wore the damn thing. When he knew they were coming, he realised.

He held a smirk, which made Clint slow down and raise an arrow. No way there was no trap. There had to be something, he had to have something behind his back or something attached to the door that would trigger as soon as Clint touched the thing. There was always something. Things with Doom were never straight forward.

"Shit.." He heard Tony mumbled from behind him. He turned and followed the man's gaze, skidding to a halt with a curse of his own when he saw guards filing in from all directions on the floor below.

"Well then.." Clint sighed, trying to count as many as he could as they aimed their guns at the pair. By the size of the room, about 5 guards across and 7 up, he'd guess close to 40 or so, with more coming in. He glanced at Tony with a smile. "You think you can handle them?"

"You know who I am?" Tony responded with a smirk, giving Clint a wink before letting his face plate fall. "Just watch and learn, Robin Hood."

With that, he took off. Flying down in an instant and taking out nearly a third of the field with one blast. Clint smiled to himself and nodded, satisfied that Tony would be just fine against them. He turned his attention back to Doom. The smug bastard had actually taken a seat behind his desk.

If Clint wasn't 200% certain that the glass was bullet proof, he'd shoot the arrow right then and there. Doom was smarter than that though. Alot smarter.

He sighed to himself and slowly approached the room, never taking his eyes off the man behind the desk. He didn't risk touching the handle, not knowing what it would do if he did, so instead he kicked the door down and aimed the arrow right at Victors head.

"Come on, man. Give it up." Clint sighed, taking a tentative step into the room.

"How did he do it?" Doom asked with a slightly impressed look. He was scanning Barton, assessing him, and Clint didn't like it. He felt like a piece of meat at a market. "There's no way that's the same arm. I pretty much severed everything in it. Mechanical?"

"I'm agent Clint Barton of SHIELD." He started through gritted teeth, taking another step closer. It was like a memorandum rights that had to be done before arrest. They weren't police, but they had to respect human rights and let the person know they were being taken into custody and not just abducted. Clint hated it, especially when it had to be offered to scum like this. "A warrant has been issued for your capture and/or assassination.."

"Not mechanical, your muscles are moving." Doom continued with a thoughtful hum, seemingly ignoring Clint words just like he was ignoring the asshole's. "Was someone a guinea pig for Mr. Stark?"

A deep breath. Calm down Barton. It's fine. You don't need that virus. Don't let it take you again.

The pain was flaring. It was seriously trying to get Clint to give in, but there was no way he would. Not when he needed control, not when he needed his right mind, not when he needed to save a kid.

"Assassination is last case scenario in this mission." He continued on, the arrow lowering in it's target path and instead aiming at Doom's chest. "So we would appreciate if you came along peacefully so no further harm befalls you."

Doom's eyebrows raised, but Clint doubted it was because of his methodical rendition of the capture bullshit every agent had to learn. No. Something in those eyes were sparkling and Barton found himself slightly worried.

"That orange glow.. Extremis.." He whispered beneath his breath, taking a step out from behind the desk then for the first time. "My lord how did he manage that..?"

"Are you coming or not, asshole?" Clint growled, fingers itching to release the tension of the bow string. He needed Doom alive now though. He realised the kid wasn't in here, he had no idea where he was, so he needed Doom to help with that.

"Obviously not." Doom smirked, shrugging a little at the end like it was supposed to be obvious. "I'm glad you didn't die, my boy! Now I can take you and figure out the secret to the virus that everyone wants!"

Clint didn't have the time to react. Before he knew it, a repulsor jet from seemingly no where - later he realised it was hidden behind Dooms shirt in a kind of Iron Man style system - sent him flying out the door and skidding along the rafters. The steel grate of the walkway cut his gear and began scraping his back, all before he hit the wall at the complete opposite end.

The pain didn't go away. The grazes and cuts along his back didn't heal even in the slightest. The thump on the back of the head received from the wall didn't die down.

The virus was giving up on him. He gave up on it so it was giving up on him. It was fighting him, it seemed to be amplifying the pain more than anything.

This wasn't going to be good. He was usually a little sloppy against Doom on a good day, but on a day when he had a virus trying to kill him on top of everything? Well, it wasn't going to end well at all, was it?

Doom was advancing, taking slow methodical steps along the rafter as he approached. Clint glanced around and spotted his bow, but it was behind the asshole. He just had to hold his own for maybe a minute or two, fight his way back to his trusty weapon, and send the arrow flying to finish the job.

Whatever chance there was of him capturing Doom before, it was thrown out the window now. He had to end this, he had to end him, or it would be Clint who'd be carried out of here in a body bag.

Gunfire could be heard down below, but Tony was mouthing off with Jarvis in his comms so he knew the man was doing just fine.

"You should know by now that you're no match, archer." Doom sighed when close enough. All Barton could do in that time was sit up against the wall, his hand rubbing his right shoulder where the pain was worst. This virus, man..

"Maybe." Clint shrugged, using the support of the wall to help him get to his feet. "But I'll be damned if I don't die trying."

"I won't kill you." Victor shook his head, his hands behind his back once more. It made him look like a school principal, hands behind his back and a slight lean in his body so he was close without being close. It was unnerving. "You're too valuable now."

Now.

That stung. Clint had always questioned his validity, never shied away from the jokes at his expense or the looks he'd get after missions. He knew he wasn't the strongest on the team, he knew he was the most vulnerable, he always knew that. But for even the bad guy to question his validity? Well, that stung more than any repulsor shot ever would.

"I'm a little defenceless here." Clint shrugged with a grin, taking a fighting stance regardless. "Unless you want to fight like a proper man, then I think I'm done."

"I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, boy." Doom growled, his composure slipping completely. It made Clint grin. He found a nerve and he was planning on poking it! "I'm a god!"

"Nah man, I've met gods!" Clint laughed, his fists lowering just slightly. Lure him out, use his human side as a weakness, get him to fight. Then take him out. "You sir? Definitely not. Have you seen Thor's arms? Now THEY'RE God worthy!"

Why hadn't they thought of this plan before? It was so simple. They thought Doom was this crazy maniac - which was true - but he was also human. Every human has flaws, every human has weak points, every human has something that they can be drawn out with. Reminding Doom of this was exactly what was needed to throw him off his game.

They always went into this mission thinking of elaborate plans, thinking of him as a mastermind who needed to be kept three steps behind them.

He was just an egotistical asshole who needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Clint couldn't help but smirk as a growl ripped through the man's throat as he lunged for the archer. He did what was natural to him, what had become first nature not even second nature to him over the years. To avoid someone charging for you like Doom was - a simple tactic is used!

He dropped to a knee and twisted his body into a roll, avoiding the contact of the person and jumping up behind them instead. He didn't give Doom a moment to react though, he just bolted over to his bow and scooped it up in one hand before he even had a chance to turn around. When he did, there was an arrow aimed at his head, and something akin to defeat flashed across his eyes for a moment.

"The great Hawkeye killing?" Doom started slowly, but there was no getting to Clint now. No way in hell. He knew what he did was wrong, but this was right.

He couldn't though. He seriously wanted to, more than anything in the world. The arrow was drawn, it was aimed, the asshole was right there ready to be killed, yet he couldn't do it.

His arm wouldn't listen.

It wouldn't obey his command to let go of the arrow, wouldn't listen to anything he told it to. He had to release the tension in the string with a curse, dropping to his knees then from pain. Why was this happening to him!? The searing heat in his arm was excruciating, and it had him dropping all weapons so he could grip at it, watching a laughing Doom approach with one slightly lidded eye.

"Seems like it's not perfect." Doom hummed, pouting slightly as he stepped up to Clint. His right arm was going numb now. He didn't know which terrified him more; the pain or the numbness. He held his breath a little when Victor reached down to his side and pulled out a pistol, the barrel of the gun aimed right between Clint's eyes. "I have no use for you. So much for being a man, Barton."

He was close. That was his mistake. There were some upsides to being close while threatening someone with a gun; one being it's more difficult to miss, another being more damage to the person. There are plenty of downsides though, one which Clint was about to utilise.

He may be one armed, but this wouldn't be the first time! Just as the trigger is squeezed; that's the best point to use. It's tricky, a second of hesitation or miss timing would have your brains blown out in an instant. Too soon and they'd be able to aim again, too late and it was too late. But Barton was a pro at this!

Just as the finger squeezed, he fell onto his back, meaning that the bullet flew harmlessly over him. His quiver though, man that hurt!

From this position, he could see the shock pass over Doom's face. His reflexes were too slow though. Before he even looked down at Clint, the archer kicked up and knocked the gun from his hands, sending it flying into the air.

With a smirk and a wink to the man above him he swung his legs and arched his back to jump up, using his not-numb arm then to catch the falling pistol.

Cocked and aimed at Dooms forehead, he knew he had it won. Doom knew he had it won, and the look that passed along his face was priceless.

"You can't go against me, Doom." Clint smirked, finger ghosting on the trigger. "I mightn't be at my best, but without your tricks and traps; you're powerless, and the shittest fighter I've ever been against."

"One last trick." Doom smirked. Of course there was..

He winced and lowered the gun when a sound ripped right thorough his head, the curse coming through the comms let him know it wasn't just him who heard it. Glancing over the railing he saw Tony go down like a sack of potatoes, guards closing in from all angles.

EMP..

Dammit, not again..

"Either kill me, or go help him." Doom smirked, hands up in the air in surrender. "As soon as they hear a gun shot though, Tony boy's a dead man."

Shit shit shit..

He didn't have to think of the decision. What choice did he have after all?

With a curse and a glare towards Doom, Clint gripped the handle of the railing and flung himself over the edge. He tucked and rolled when he landed before rushing over to stand guard over Tony, having to push his way through the circle of guards surrounding the unmoving Iron Man armour.

"Feels familiar.." Tony said from beneath him, his faceplate up this time.

Clint let out a breathless laugh, trying to figure out his odds here. There were fifteen of them, maybe thirteen, they're moving around in the circle so he couldn't count properly.

He had 5 bullets, two daggers - one in each boot -, and some arrows that were kind of useless without his bow.

And a ridiculous amount of pain.

"Just give me twenty seconds of distraction." Tony said softly, causing Clint to take his eyes off the guards who were shouting for him to drop his weapon. "Upgraded from last time. He'll be up in no time."

Clint smirked and nodded, turning his attention back to the shouting guards then.

"Bet I'll have them down before you even reboot." Clint laughed, hearing a faint 'Game on!' from Stark.

Without another word, Clint sprung into action. He didn't move too far from Stark, just incase they got close to him, but the five bullets emptied themselves into the chest of five guards before they even knew he made a move, sending them crumpling to the ground in no time.

Bullets fired, but he was on the floor already, rolling over to use one of the fallen bodies as a kind of shield, sniper position behind the groaning man. From his left boot he grabbed one of the daggers and sent it flying, hitting one of the remaining guards in the leg and sending him down aswell with a very satisfying call for his mother!

That makes six. Nearly half the field. The other half were trying to form another circle, but they were breaking ranks. They weren't expecting him to fight, not let alone pretty much win!

He reached for one of the AK-47's, but let out an agonising scream when the pain became too much - beginning in his stomach and ripping through him like wild fire would through a forest. Nothing hit him, no bullet even came close to it, he was too low down and they were trying to avoid hitting their fallen friend. He was losing the battle, the virus was becoming too much for him to handle.

He was on his stomach unable to move when he heard Tony call his name, but it was too late. The pain had him immobile, it had him tasting blood, it had him nearly crying. His hearing was leaving him, but he could just about hear the sound of repulsor's as - no doubt - Tony took care of the remaining guards with one blast.

He was over then, infront of Clint. He had to move Barton onto his back, earning a whimper from the archer as the movement sent pain waves all through him.

"You did good." Tony said a little quickly. That alone let Clint know that it was a bad situation. "You did great Clint! I'm gonna get you back to the jet, send Barnes looking for the kid, alright?"

"He got away." Clint said with a frown, his teeth gritted as Tony lifted him bridal style. "Tony, Doom got away again."

"I know pal." His sighed, even through the armour Clint could feel the action. "It's fine, I'll send Thor after him, but Clint you're going into shock and won't last long and-"

A growl coming from Clint shut Tony up immediately. His eyes had spotted the retreating form of one Victor Von Doom up on the rafters. He must have stuck around to enjoy the show.

Ignoring the pain, ignoring the fact that everything was screaming at him to go to sleep, to end it, to just let the pain lull him into a dreamless sleep for who knows how long - he reached back to pull an arrow from his quiver.

He was lying in Tony's arm at an awkward angle, and he could feel the confused stare from the billionaire - but he didn't care. He had a mission to complete. He was always a good shot, even without his bow, but it meant a normal arrow wouldn't be too effective.

"As soon as I throw - fly." He commanded through gritted teeth, waiting until Doom was walking along the straight part of the rafters to get a proper shot. When he was, Clint activated the tip of the explosive arrow in his hand. With a swift flick of his wrist - and alot of force that left his good arm feeling like lead - the arrow went flying towards Doom. "Go!"

Tony didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his hold on the archer and pushed all the power to the repulsor's on his feet and they were off. Not even a second later the explosion from the arrow sent shock waves through the castle. It was one of his stronger ones, ones that were usually only used for breaking and entering, so it might have been a little over kill!

But he needed overkill. He knew in his current state he wouldn't hit Doom. He probably barely even made the rafter - but the blast would be enough to at least knock the asshole out so someone else can go gather his remains later.

"Clint you're a mad man." Tony laughed from above him, giving Clint a weak chuckle of his own. His eyes were slipping closed, and all he could see was the underside of the Iron Man mask.

He finished his mission though. He got rid of Doom, Barnes would be going in search of the kid and wrangling up stragglers. Doom was finished once and for all and that's all he cared about.

"Thanks Tony.." He whispered softly, letting the pain finally take him.

He owed Tony. If it wasn't for the billionaire, he wouldn't have been able to finish the mission.

He wasn't going to make it this time, there was no way in hell that he was. He could feel his organs shutting down, could feel his muscles slowly disobeying his commands. He could feel pain, so much pain, and nothing else.

He let his eyes fall closed and welcomed the darkness to the sound of Tony's worried calls.

Tony was a good guy. He didn't mind leaving the world with that thought.

* * *

The first time he woke was.. Interesting.

There were voices, that's all he knew about where he was. Rushed voices commanding one another, none he knew, none he recognised.

The pain was there. That's all he could feel. The searing heat that began in his chest and rippled out all through out his body. Not as strong as before, not as prominent as before, but it was there.

The voices were interrupted by a scream, a blood curdling sound that wouldn't go a miss in a horror movie, y'know the parts where the zombies finally get the person? That was that sound that ran through the room.

Where it was coming from, he didn't know. It went on and on and only seemed to stop when his energy began to leave.

It was coming from him. The voices were more panicked, machines were beeping around him at too quick a rate. Someone shouted something about confining him. Were they talking about Clint? Surely not. Why would they..?

A hand on his wrist, and the pain became unbearable. Before the blackness took him, he could feel the energy surge leave his body, and heard the sound of something - or someone - crashing away from him.

The second time was alot calmer. Alot quieter. His eyes still wouldn't obey him - refusing point blank to even try open up for him - but he knew he was somewhere safe.

A quiet murmur was bouncing around the space. One voice he recognised - God of Thunder. His voice would always be impossible to forget.

The place didn't smell familiar to him. He was usually good with his senses, more so than most people, so that meant that he could tell where he was by scent alone if it was ever required. Like now, when his eyes were failing him, when they were rebelling against him, he needed scent to determine where he was.

"Will he make it through?" Thor sounded worried. He still sounded muffled.

What happened to him? Why was he lying down? Why was there such pain?

His wrists were confined to whatever he was lying on. And something cold was draped over him.

He let out a slight sigh and felt his head loll to the side, not being able to stay conscious long enough to hear the answer to Thor's question or figure out much more about his current situation.

He doesn't remember the other times he woke, nor how many there were. He remembers pain. Pain that was slowly ebbing away with each wave of consciousness. He didn't know what caused it, his memory still fuzzy, but something had him in the worst shape of his life and he was scared to find out what.

Finally - or miraculously - his eyes obeyed him one day. The haze in his mind slowly faded away and gave him a chance to muster all the energy he had to his eyelids. His right one was a little more responsive and actually opened a little, but the light flooding into his retina made him shut it with a groan a half second later.

The pain was just a dull ache all through his body. He had a whopper headache that he doubted would leave any time soon and he was yet to get the rest of his muscles to listen to him. But he could open an eye, and that was a start.

"Welcome back." That voice he'd know anywhere too! Mr. Tony Stark. "Lights are dimmed, try again Barton. You won't believe where we are!"

He was too hyper.. He hated when Tony was hyper. It usually meant that he had stayed up way too long and was over tired or he had some new contraption he wanted the archer to try out.

He tried again, slower this time, and sure enough the lights were down to a much more manageable level.

He waited until the fog over his eye cleared before trying the left one. It wouldn't open as far as righty did, but it was enough.

He frowned in confusion. He was sitting up in a bed, that much he could feel. One tube was in each arm, he couldn't figure out for what though. None of that was what confused him though.

It was the place he was in. It wasn't a normal hospital room, no way in hell. The whole room was made from what looked like marble, though he was never good with his rock types so he couldn't be sure. Pillars adorned the walls with statues of people and creatures and gold decorations scattered around them all. Real gold. Clint would definitely know that anywhere from his days in the circus.

He glanced to his side and saw Tony sitting there, a grin plastered on his face. Was this some new fancy room in the tower? He always joked with the billionaire that he wanted a throne room, but this was a little much..

Tony looked like he hadn't slept in a year. His eyes were sunken and looked like they aged in however long Clint's been out. His shirt was rumpled but that wasn't surprising - if Pepper wasn't around then he never looked after them.

Clint tried ask what happened, but it came out as a croak followed by a cough. His throat wouldn't even obey him..

"Easy.." Tony soothed, a hand resting gently on the archers shoulder. He couldn't feel it though. "We're completely swapping out your system here pal."

He has to be dead. Right? He felt like he was dying back in..

Dooms castle. That's what happened. That fucking virus was trying to finish you off, Barton..

Swapping out his system sounded odd, even by Stark standards.. Glancing down at the tubes in his arm he did notice one feeding liquid in and another feeding liquid out. An agonisingly slow rate, but it was happening.

It wasn't possible. That's why he was convinced he was dead. That, and this place genuinely looked like those old painting of heaven.

A straw to his lips was a welcome feature. He slowly drank the water offered, nearly choking on it when he saw it was coming from a gold cup.

What the hell was going on!?

"Friend Barton!" He winced a little at Thor's voice, looking over to see him in full battle gear entering through the door with a grin. Why would he be in battle gear?

"Tone it down there, Shakespeare." Tony scolded softly, taking his seat once more when Clint was finished with the water. "He's only just awake."

"What's going on..?" Clint finally got the words out, his head falling back against the pillow when he did. It took way too much of his energy.

"You weren't making it." Tony eventually said, after sharing a glance with Thor for a moment. "You just weren't responding and none of us knew what to do. You barely survived the trip here, but Thor and I got you to help. They're actually miracle workers here and got you out of your funk in no time! Been asleep for.. I don't know time here.."

"Three Midgard weeks plus four days." Thor said with a nod when Tony raised an eyebrow at him for an answer.

Midgard weeks.. Tony talking about miracles.. There's no way..

"Asgard?" Clint asked with slightly wide eyes. Adrenaline was surging through him now. He had read about this place, the story books in the old children homes told of Thor and Asgard and since the moment he met the God he had been begging to come! Odin didn't like humans visiting though, so it never seemed right! "You're shitting me."

"I assure you we are not. The archers are most excited about meeting the famous Hawkeye with who their prince talks so highly!" Thor chuckled. His hand came down to pat Tony on the shoulder. "Stark did a fine job keeping you alive. But our healers can finish off that healing for him."

"They're getting rid of the virus." Tony said softly, trying to simplify Thor's way of speaking for Clint. "You'll be recovering here for the next while, then I'll take you back to Earth and we'll get you back to 100 percent."

"Asgard.." Clint whispered in slight shock, a small grin spreading across his face. He glanced behind Thor and out the door, seeing nothing but the beautiful scenery he could only ever imagine. The mood seemed to lighten with his grin, but he soon frowned and glanced back to Tony when a realisation hit him. "They're getting rid of it.."

"Yeah." Tony nodded, a confused frown spreading across his face. "I thought that's what you wanted.."

"It is.. But.." He sighed gently and looked to his hands. He couldn't feel them, couldn't feel any part of his body. He didn't know what the healers had him on, but all but his head was numb and heavy.

"Clint." Tony pushed softly. "Do you want us to stop?"

"It's just." He struggled for the words. He knew it was right to get rid of it, knew it was the proper thing to do. But one thing would be missing. "I won't have powers anymore.."

"Probably not." Tony agreed, his hand going to cover Clint's. This made Barton look to him, both he and Thor giving him smiles. "But that's fine Hawk."

"I liked the powers.." He frowned, shaking his head a little. Sure the virus turned on him in the end, but if Tony can tweak it then maybe he can keep the powers he's become accustomed to, the powers he's come to love. "They made me like you guys. They made me a hero."

"Clint." His name was chuckled by Tony and he couldn't figure out why. Even Thor's shoulders were shaking in a gentle laugh. "Even without the powers you were the best damn hero out of the lot of us. We won't let that change."

There was never a moment in the past few years of being an Avenger where Tony spoke with such sincerity. It eased Clint's worries and gave him a slight grin.

He didn't need powers. He'd love to have them alright, and who knows maybe they'd still be there after this.

But he didn't need them.

He was a damn fine hero without them.


End file.
